Pack Bonds, page 7
part #4 of Amarok Series
But if there was one thing time had taught her, it was humility. A person’s position could be lost in a moment when they bit off more than they could chew and there were always bigger predators in the jungle.
For her, those predators were the royal family.
Just thinking about it sent a spike of hot anger through her mind, but as always, Pruella counseled herself to peace. Among immortals, grudges simmered rather than boiled and there were no boundaries a noble wouldn’t cross to right a perceived wrong. The last thing she needed now in this critical time was a distraction.
“We are ready, my lady.” Addison stepped back and handed over the machine. “How will we approach this?”
“The same way we always handle these peacocks. Pacify and prepare. This isn’t the first attempt to bring me down and it won’t be the last. Calm heads will prevail.”
The tablet rang shrilly. Taking a deep breath, Pruella hit the button to project the call onto the screen that dominated the far wall.
A room done in shades of deep red appeared, illuminated by hundreds of candles seated in an ornate gold chandelier. Paintings in grand frames hung on the walls, their details hidden by shadows and the camera’s angle. A polished white throne sat upon a raised stage, but her caller stood in front of it.
Everything about him was understated; a slightly balding head, brown upturned eyes, and slightly crooked features that made him resemble a pug. The burgundy robe he wore was of a simple design, but she had no doubt it was worth more than a bucket of gems. The silver braided rope keeping it closed was probably woven with strands of platinum.
“Pruella,” he spoke, and his mild demeanor fell away. The false bravado oozed from his tongue and crawled over his lips to form a mask that made him ten times uglier, at least to the pale vampire’s eyes.
“My lord,” Pruella returned neutrally, dipping into a small bow. Addison remained still and silent, indistinguishable from a statue.
“The reports coming out of your city are troubling. Open fighting with changers makes everyone nervous.”
“Tension is unavoidable, but everything is taken care of.”
“Regardless, the King is worried. He’s determined it would be best if someone outside the situation gave an unbiased review.” The aide couldn’t hide the smarmy smile that curved his lips. “Don’t worry. The Court is well aware of how you feel about interference. Thane Blood will merely be passing through…if all is as well as you claim.”
“A visit from the royal family could never be an interference. I look forward to hosting him.”
“Excellent. The King looks forward to good news.”
The video cut out and Pruella’s calm fractured, her features scrunching up with disgust. “Low-bred vermin. A human worms his way into the Blood Court waving around money because those lazy figureheads would rather shrug the work off than progress along with society. Now he believes he is of the station to command me because he speaks with the ‘voice of the King’.”
With quick, jerky movements that belied her anger, Pruella moved around her desk and grabbed a small black notebook from one of the drawers. Addison stepped forward to grab it. “I eagerly await the day I purge House Blood of the filth I constantly have to muck through.”
“As you say, my lady.”
“I don’t know that we’ve got much on Thane. Never warranted the attention. Suppose he must have exaggerated this mess, hoping to use it to gain status.”
“I will check with our contacts and begin the necessary preparations.”
“Hmm. Go further. I believe I have most of the Court cowed. It would take more than a convenient opportunity to give one of those weasels the courage to move against me. Something else is going on.”
“I will find out.” Addison bowed sharply and left the room. Pruella dropped into her seat with a sigh. Her fingers flicked over the tablet resting on the desk and her conflict map popped back onto the screen.
The royal red had gained sway in America, most of the unrest being contained on the west coast. However, the rioting colors on the Eurasian continent had gotten more violent. Just enough of a distraction for the Court them to not give Thane’s ploy much scrutiny.
“I don’t have time for this,” she hissed. Especially not with the developments in the city. The girl, Dean. Pruella knew she would bring change, but it was happening far faster than she predicted.
One of the biggest impediments to her plans was the division between the changers. Her original solution was to support Rosa Salvatore’s efforts to rehabilitate youths. It would eventually give her a platform to claim the city but with Franklin dead and Dean’s star on the rise, so to speak…
“Hmm.” Pruella pulled out her phone and scrolled through her long list of contacts as new plans came together in her mind.
-
Under the cover darkness, dozens of figures moved into the city. Freewood housed many strange inhabitants. The people living within its walls didn’t know it, but they’d subconsciously adjusted to the presence of the paranormal. Despite that, the newcomers would have raised suspicion.
A mix of men and women with varying appearances; a handful could blend into a crowd, but most wore shabby clothes that enhanced their shifty demeanors. The brazen wore close to nothing at all despite the dropping fall temperatures.
The worse could barely passed as human. Their hunched postures and twitchy movements resembled a wild animal exploring new territory, a visage reinforced by the rapid micro changes across their bodies, fur sprouting and then quickly sinking back into their skin. Twigs, leaves, and dirt covering them from head to toe showed their time wandering in deep wilderness.
One thing tied them together. Their movements were uniform, their positions strategic. A greater will directed their actions. It was the key to unleashing the potential violence building in the tense bodies, the control making the threat twice as dangerous.
Two of the invaders stood out from the rest, a spot of calm in the sea of movement as they surveyed the city from the edge of a tall building.
Alpine sniffed the air, his nose crinkling in distaste. It made sense that someone as wretched as Franklin Freewood would be hiding in a city that smelled like a sewer. He missed the sweet air his home, but the memory was tainted by the smell of ash.
Thinking about the destruction he’d left behind caused his anger to surge. The traitor was here, hiding beneath a rock obscured by the Council’s shadow. He’d find him. Even if it meant turning over every rock in the city and stomping the bugs beneath.
“Alpha.”
He turned. It should have been one of his packmates at his shoulder, but the rogue Beckett seemed the best fit for the role. Alpine knew nothing of the man’s past but the anger he saw reflected in the hazel gaze rivaled his own. He had no doubts but if he ever did, one look at that smoldering rage would be enough to remind him why action needed to be taken.
“All of the men are in place.”
“Then we can begin.” Taking a deep breath, Alpine tilted his head back and howled. Several voices joined his own. Their cries reached every corner of the city and filled the dreams of its residents with fear they couldn’t understand.
-
Waking up the next morning was the opposite of the calm petting from the day before. Dean grudgingly woke to the sound of stomping feet as people rushed around on the floor below. She pushed to her feet groggily and moved toward the source of the commotion.
In the living room, Clementine and Jerome were busy setting up a large screen TV and its stand while Rachel, Rudolph, and Viktoriya looked on nervously. Dean stepped up behind them, laying a hand on her mates’ shoulders. “What’s going on?”
“We’re not sure. This thing was dropped off and I get a text from Mama telling us not to make a move until she gets back.”
“We’ve got it.” Clementine stepped back and turned on the TV and cable box. “What channel did the chief say?”
“Eight.” The TV flicked to the appropriate channel.
“There was a strange scene in Freewood this morning as a group of men paraded down the street, disturbing businesses and neighbors with their shouting.”
The blonde reporter was replaced by a video clip. Dean narrowed her eyes as she watched a group of raggedly dressed men stomping down the street, shouting out challenges.
“Franklin! We know you’re here! Face us like a man!”
“Come out, come out, piggy!”
“Death to the traitor!”
The clip ended and the reporter reappeared. “Police struggle to contain this riot. It appears they are searching for a man named Franklin Freewood, who was killed two nights ago in a house fire. The police suspect the fire was caused by arson. Sources say that the men are being detained as possible suspects and witnesses. No official warning has been put out, but people are understandably nervous about being on the streets at the moment. We’ll report any new information as the situation develops. In other news—”
Clementine turned off the TV and the changers in the room uttered groans of varying intensity. “Those are rogues,” Viktoriya said. “We knew there were more of them around than ever before, but we didn’t think an invasion of this scale would happen for years.”
“Clearly, they’re not working on your timetable.” Clementine tossed the remote away in disgust. “Why is the chief telling us to stay inside? The only way to deal with idiots dumb enough to march down the street is to throw them out on their asses.”
“Because we don’t have enough information. We don’t know why they are here, right now.” Viktoriya moved away from her mates to pace the room. “Rogues invade for two reasons. One of them emerges as an alpha and decides to take over a territory or they want to take revenge against the pack that kicked them out. Franklin’s death might be enough to embolden them into taking action, but they don’t know about it. So, why are they moving now?”
She came to a stop, eyes widening. “They called him a traitor. That could only refer to his dealings with the Council. How do they know about that? Nothing riles up rogues more than revenge. Face us like a man. Gods, don’t tell me he was using the Council to take care of the rogues.”
Viktoriya turned to see the room watching her and froze. “Don’t stop now,” Rachel said, waving for her to continue. “Keep going.”
“I mean, this is a theory. It could be the rogues all decided to storm the city for kicks and giggles. Someone could have paid them. It could be a full moon tonight, I don’t know.”
“But you don’t think so?” Dean asked.
“…No. It’s hard to believe that this has nothing to do with the Council. Seriously, how could we have that much bad luck to be attacked by two completely different enemies for two different reasons? But theories mean nothing. We need evidence.”
“There’s a simple way to get some.” Dean motioned for them to follow her. “Izekiel may know something.”
“I forgot about your pet halfling,” Clementine sniped.
“Forget about him again. You can stand outside. Only Red and Vikky come with me.” After her mates left the room, Dean imposed herself in the doorway. Clementine scowled at her and she answered with a similarly nasty expression. “I don’t need your antics spooking him.”
“You’re pretty protective of the enemy.”
Dean raised a threatening finger before following her mates. They stood in front of Izekiel’s room, stepping aside to make room for her as she knocked and entered.
Izekiel raised a hand in greeting. “Good morning, alpha.”
“Morning.” She crouched in front of him, looking him over. “You look better today.”
“Yes. Our healing is nothing compared to that of a changer, but we have pretty strong constitutions. I imagine that I will be fully recovered in about two weeks.”
“Good. First, some introductions.” She waved over the girls. “These are my mates, Viktoriya and Rachel. Do you know what that means?”
“I heard Master Law speak on them briefly. He mentioned to visitors how lucky it was that Franklin was not mated as it would make him far easier to manipulate. Essentially, they are your wives, yes?”
Dean grinned as Viktoriya cleared her throat loudly. “Essentially. It also means that you can trust them implicitly.”
“Understood. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
“Same to you, Zeke.” Rachel said with a bright smile, reaching down to gently clasp his injured hand. “I think we’re going to get along famously.”
“Izekiel, I have some more questions for you.”
“I hope I am of some service to you, alpha.”
“Do you know if Franklin ever used the Council to eliminate rogues around this area? Or anything of the sort.”
Izekiel closed his eyes in thought. “Hmm. I recall the day we arrived at the Freewood house; Master Law commented on the Council’s assistance to Franklin after his virtual meeting with the other alphas. He emphasized how important they had been to his success and during the meeting, Franklin implied one of the alphas who had opposed his leadership had been silenced. I can’t be sure but…”
“But that sounds like Franklin had the Council assassinate an alpha.” Viktoriya raked a hand through her hair as she laughed nervously. “Great. This is just great.”
“You’re reacting as if this is much worse than targeting the rogues.”
“It is. So much. Rogues are exiled from their packs. Their essentially criminals, dishonorable or overly aggressive. It’s an alpha’s prerogative to drive them away and no one’s going to blink if a few of them drop dead.
“But if he killed an alpha with the Council? You understand. Alphas are more than a person. They are their pack, a symbol. Killing that is the same as declaring himself an enemy to all changers. Those people in the street might not be rogues. The alphas may have banded together and with good reason.”
Dean sighed, damning Franklin and his machinations silently. Even in his grave, the man still managed to complicate her life. “We need to find out for sure. I guess the simplest way would be to talk to them.”
“Talk to them? Rogues don’t talk, Dean.”
“There’s more than one kind of talking.”
“Now hold on a minute!” Viktoriya shouted forcefully. “You going off to fight a legion of hunters is one thing. Ultimately, they’re still human. But you fighting a pack, even a pack of undisciplined rogues, is too much. And I swear to every higher power that ever was, I will nail you to the floor with silver stakes before I let you do it!”
The silence nearly vibrated with the force of her shouting. Dean grinned, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. “Okay. I’m open to other suggestions.”
Viktoriya blinked, her mouth working silently as she took in the quick deferral. She slowly relaxed, the flush of anger draining from her face as she cleared her throat. “Right. Um, the first thing we need to do is talk to Dugen. As alpha of the Freewood pack, he has the most authority and could probably ask their leader to a face to face. Rachel, you should talk to your mother. We need information, mainly locations. From the news report, we can be sure that the police will be clearing the streets. The last thing we need is them scattering far and wide.”
Dean growled. “I do not like this passive attitude.”
“I swear, Deanna—”
“But I agree that fighting off an entire pack of crazed rogues doesn’t seem like the best idea, even if I could do it. Besides, this isn’t my problem.” She stretched out on the floor. “Dugen can clean up Franklin’s mess.”
Viktoriya let out a breath of relief. “Okay, good. I’ll get on it right now. Once I talk with Dugen, I’ll call and let you know the game plan. You might get the fight you want after all.”
She hurried from the room. Rachel moved over to sit next to Dean. “And she looks so quiet.”
“Hmph. She is mated to an Amarok alpha. It makes sense that she has a formidable will.”
“A formidable will you like. If you had a tail, it would have been wagging.”
Dean chuckled. “If you met my family, you would understand. Barclay, my uncle’s mate, was one of the warmest women I’ve ever known but she had a hell of a temper. A group of wolves burst through a wall while we were over for dinner. She grabbed the aggressor and tore off a piece of his pelt before throwing him back out. Hehe. After that, everyone kept saying she skinned wolves who messed with her house. Gods, I loved that woman.”
The thought of her lost family made her smile wilt, but she forced the thought from her mind before it had the chance to depress her. “Anyway, I’m saying I’m used to the aggression. And anger looks good on her.”
“Uh-huh. She’s a lot less reserved when she’s angry. Hmm. What do you think, Zeke?” she asked, looking past Dean to the halfling. “This must be a lot for you to take in.”
