Running with the Alpha's Son, page 19
For a moment I chew my thumbnail and think over this proposition. The council waits and watches me, patient and silent. Finally, I let out a sigh.
“What will it be, Blood Wolf?” Mal asks.
“I want to learn from you,” I say without thinking. “There’s just one problem…”
“The child alpha.”
“Yes,” I say. “Jasper. He’s my mate, I can’t force him to stay here if he doesn’t want to.”
“If he truly cares for you he will do what’s best.”
I look up at her from under my bangs. She may have got my number, but she doesn’t know Jasper at all.
“Hey,” I say, squinting in the sunlight with a hand held over my eyes. After I left the council’s tent I found Jasper outside kicking the dirt with his hands shoved firmly in his pockets. There’s no sign of Omar or the wolves who brought us here.
“Hey,” he says. “Ready to go?”
“I, uh…I…”
“What is it?” he stops kicking dust up and comes to me with a look of concern etched on his face. “What happened in there?”
“They said…they said they could help me control my blood-wolf powers. They want us to stay.”
“You aren’t honestly considering staying here?” he asks, incredulous.
“I am,” I say, a little more determined. “Jasper, if they can help me stop using all my energy to keep people out of my head, if they can stop me from keeling over every time I try to reach out with my powers, then maybe…maybe I can use this gift for good.”
“They’re lying, Max,” he says through clenched teeth.
“You don’t know that.”
“They’re rogues, we can’t trust them. Did you hear what they said about my mother?”
“Yes, but what if it’s true? Don’t you want to learn more about her? Don’t you want to find out what she was like when she wasn’t around your dad? What she believed in? Who she was…really?”
“I know who she was!”
He’s red-faced and a drop of saliva is hanging from his curled lip. But I get why he’s angry. The very people he thinks are responsible for his mother’s death are now telling him they knew her better than he ever did. I take his hands and try to keep my voice calm, mostly so he’ll chill out as well.
“I know you do,” I say, rubbing the backs of his hands with my thumbs. “You know who she was to you. But, Jasp, you were twelve when she was…when she died. You can’t possibly have known everything there was to know about her. I know you don’t trust them but why don’t you give them a chance. It might be a good thing. Who knows, maybe you’ll be surprised?”
He turns his face away and stares at a tent peg, chewing his lip.
“We don’t have to stay long—a couple nights, that’s all. Just long enough for me to see what they can offer, if they can actually help me.”
“It’s dangerous,” he mutters.
I lean sideways so that he has to look at me.
“If I can get my abilities under control,” I say, locking eyes with him, “then maybe we’ll be able to mind-link, like we wanted. I think it’s worth a shot.”
The muscles in his cheeks move as he grinds his teeth, thinking things over, then finally he turns to face me once more.
“You really want to stay?”
“Just a couple of nights, that’s it.”
“You promise?”
“Swear to the moon gods.”
He exhales roughly. “Fine. But the second things turn bad we’re getting out of here.”
“They won’t—”
“The second they turn bad,” he echoes.
“Okay.” We stand for a moment holding hands and letting the dust settle. “So, we’ll stay?”
He rolls his eyes but he’s backing down. “You’ll be the death of me one day.”
I laugh because he’s joking, but I don’t find it all that funny.
“You two stopped squabbling?” Omar asks, coming around the side of the council’s tent.
“We weren’t squabbling,” Jasper growls.
“Sure you were. Like an old married couple.” Omar joins us, one hand under his shirt scratching his chest and displaying his toned abs. “Mal tells me you’re going to stay awhile?”
“How did she…?”
He shrugs. “She’s pretty well connected.” He winks at me. “Anyway she asked me to show you to one of the guest tents.”
“Great,” I say.
“We’ve already dropped off your belongings,” Omar says, then glances at the sun. “Come on, it’s almost lunchtime. You won’t want to miss Miss Sammy’s barbecue ribs.”
He turns on his heel and takes off down a path. I glance at my reluctant mate one last time and follow Omar, pulling Jasper along behind me.
ROGUE SANCTUARY
Omar leads us through the tent city, nodding and greeting rogues as he does. From the way that people smile when they see him, waving and winking, it’s clear he’s ingratiated himself within this community.
“You seem popular,” I say.
He shrugs. “It’s easy to get along when everyone is this friendly. Here we are.”
We arrive at an expansive shaded area. A tent ceiling is held aloft by thick wooden poles, and underneath are at least a hundred collapsible picnic tables. The place is already crowded by wolves eating and chatting with the others at their tables. My nostrils widen as a stupidly delicious scent wafts by.
“What is that smell?”
Omar grins. “Told you. Miss Sammy’s ribs are the best in the country.”
I glance at Jasper and his eyes are wide as well. “Smells good, huh?” I ask and nudge him gently.
He shakes his head a little and resets his face. “Not especially,” he says.
I turn to Omar, desperate not to have offended him. “Jasper…uh…doesn’t eat meat.”
“Don’t worry, Alpha Boy,” Omar says. “There’s plenty of veggie-loving wolves here too. You’ll be well fed.”
Jasper can’t even hide his shock at learning there are other vegetarian wolves, as much as he’d like to.
We wander through the tables, Omar slapping his pals on the back. At one table three men are sitting not touching their food while they glare at us. They don’t look as happy as everyone else that we’re here.
By the far end of the shade cloth, four tables have been set up and food laid out buffet style, with wolves dishing out all manner of delicious-smelling food to the patrons lining up with their dinner trays. Behind them in the sun sit three industrial-size barbecues that wouldn’t be out of place in some steampunk fantasy. We make our way to the end of the line and take our trays.
“Miss Sammy!” Omar says with an open-mouthed smile, throwing his hands wide and nearly taking Jasper out with his tray.
“Omar, baby,” Miss Sammy says from behind a mountain of glistening, succulent-looking ribs. “You better be hungry today.”
“Always,” he replies.
Miss Sammy has big, rosy cheeks, her curly red hair is held back by a bandana, and her apron is covered in barbecue sauce smudges.
“Who are your friends?” she says, pointing at Jasper and me with a pair of saucy tongs.
“This is Max. He’s the blood wolf and a super cool dude. And this is his mate, Jasper Apollo, he’s…” We stare at Omar, waiting to see how he plans to finish that thought. “He’s here too.”
Jasper rolls his eyes but Miss Sammy leans over the table, her belly nearly coming into contact with the pile of ribs, to squint at Jasper.
“You have her eyes,” Miss Sammy says.
Jasper pulls his head back like he’s smelled something rotten.
“You boys are a long way from home. You must be hungry. Load up, there’s plenty to go around.”
I let Miss Sammy stack way too many ribs on my plate then move down the buffet, doing as told and loading up corn, potato salad, sausages, a succulent-looking burger, some other salad with chickpeas and broccoli. Behind me Jasper is being much pickier but he accepts a large spoon of both salads, plus some grilled eggplant and halloumi and a seasoned mushroom head the size of my face. Both satisfied, we find an empty table and sit.
“Looks good,” I say, taking a whiff of the spicy, sweet scent of barbecue sauce and salivating up a storm.
Jasper doesn’t say anything. Omar joins us swiftly, dropping his tray on the table with a loud thunk.
“Tuck in, boys,” Omar says, already pulling pork from the bone with his teeth.
I sink my teeth into the steaming meat and the juices explode across my palate. I’ve never had ribs this meaty, this tender and delicious. “Oh my moon gods!” I mumble with a mouth full, knowing I must have sauce all over my face.
“I know, right?” Omar says, nodding. “And yours?” he asks Jasper.
With a knife and fork Jasper cuts a neat triangle of his mushroom, stares at it briefly as if it could be poisoned, then finally slips it between his lips. Instantly his eyes pop open and he chews with an amazed look on his face.
“Pretty good?” Omar is staring at Jasper with very high eyebrows.
Jasper stares at his plate. “It’s fine, I guess,” he mumbles, but Omar and I can both tell that’s the best damn mushroom he’s ever eaten.
“So after lunch I thought I could show you around a little,” Omar says. “Then Max, I want to introduce you to Yoki.”
“Yoki?” I ask.
“Yoki is our spiritual leader, they’ll be the one working with you on the blood-wolf front. They’re amazing, they’ll be able to help you out, no trouble.”
“And what about Jasper, what will he do?”
Omar smiles mischievously at Jasper. “Earn his keep.”
Jasper and I stare questioningly at Omar.
“You’ll see,” he says, then goes back to his lunch.
“That’s the healer’s tent over there,” Omar says, pointing to a large tent with a thin plume of pale smoke rising from the center. “And over there is one of our communal vegetable gardens.” Between two rows of tents I spot an out-of-place patch of green dotted with bright colors—yellow corn and red bell peppers all growing in abundance.
“It must take a lot of work to cultivate all that produce,” I say.
“The biggest issue is sourcing enough water,” Omar explains. “But we all chip in with the garden work and there’s no shortage of sunlight.”
“And you grow everything you eat yourselves?”
“Pretty much.” Omar glances at me looking suitably smug.
“That’s so cool.” I nudge Jasper. “Isn’t that cool? Living completely off the land?”
Jasper grunts.
“We have a water reservoir just a short distance from here in the shadiest part of the valley,” Omar continues, turning right down a slightly narrower path. The tent walls on either side of us ripple in the warm breeze. “Down here is our meditation center where we go to hone our wolf senses.”
“Is that where Yoki is?” I ask, eager to meet the spiritual practitioner who might be able to help me.
Omar grins knowingly. “No. Yoki has their own space.”
We stop at an intersection with five paths leading off in different directions. Omar points down a trail to the left. “If you head this way you’ll find our library. We have an amazing collection of books. There’s volumes and volumes about the history of werewolf culture, a great section on horticulture and germination. But there’s also some wicked fiction, some romance, mystery, the classics. A big selection of young adult.”
“Awesome,” I say.
“That way”—Omar turns and points down another pathway—“leads you to the music tent. And down there”—he turns and points down yet another—“is our gym.”
“You have everything you could ever need,” I say.
Jasper remains stoically silent.
“Almost,” Omar replies. “Your mate doesn’t seem so impressed.”
“Jasper?” I say, hoping he’ll muster the strength to say something nice.
“It’s impressive,” he says finally, surveying the encampment with one eyebrow raised like he isn’t so sure. “Especially considering the lack of consistent leadership.”
Omar bristles a little at Jasper’s obviously underhanded compliment, but he shrugs it off. “That’s what’s so great about this place. Everyone has a voice. There isn’t one dictator controlling everything.”
Jasper locks eyes with Omar and steps toward him. “An alpha isn’t a dictator.”
“Fascism by any other name, right?” Omar says, not backing down—in fact, squaring his shoulders and stepping to face off with Jasper.
“What did you say?” Jasper growls.
“Heyheyhey,” I say, stepping between them, putting a hand on Jasper’s chest to ease him off. “Put the claws away. This is a peaceful place, right Omar?”
“Yeah,” he scoffs. “It is.” He steps back and turns away, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Jasper withdraws as well.
“From what I’ve heard,” Omar begins, and I pray he isn’t about to provoke Jasper further, “your mother was pretty instrumental in helping this place get off the ground.”
Jasper doesn’t say anything. He glares sideways at Omar, studying him to see if this is some kind of goading or if he’s sincere.
“People around here, they talk about her like she was some kind of saint.”
Still, Jasper doesn’t say anything.
“She must have believed the rogues needed a place like this, where they could be safe.”
“She…” Jasper falters. “She cared about all people. No matter who or—what they are.”
Omar rakes his eyes over Jasper’s face carefully. “Shame the acorn fell so far from the tree.”
Jasper lifts his head once more, his chin a proud blade slicing the air.
“Come on,” Omar says. “Tomas will be waiting.”
Jasper hangs back a little but follows Omar and me as we make our way down one of the five paths until we emerge at what appears to be a construction site. Bare wooden poles are being dug into the ground, crossbeams nailed into them, and the tent roof, which is only halfway erected, is being strung up between them.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“It will be a school,” Omar says, “when it’s finished. We sort of outgrew the last one.” He gestures to a wide patch of dirt off to the side where fifty or sixty kids of all ages are sitting in groups listening to a handful of teachers. “Our numbers have been swelling lately. Tension in the packs is forcing more and more people to go rogue, and well, a lot of them end up here. Since the weather is nice we’re holding classes outside until the new school tent can be completed.”
“How long will it take?”
“Should have only been a couple of weeks,” Omar says. “But with more and more wolves flocking to us, the council decided to divert some of our wolfpower to the security teams, to ensure the new arrivals don’t attract any unwanted attention from the packs.”
“Why? What would the packs do if they found out about this place?”
“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”
I turn to Jasper, who has just caught up, but before I can say anything Tomas approaches us, pulling off a pair of gloves and lifting a pair of protective glasses onto the top of his head.
“Ah, there you are,” Tomas says. “Just in time. We can use all the help we can get.”
Jasper leans into me and whispers. “What is he talking about?”
Omar answers for me. “We thought while Max was learning from Yoki, that you, Jasper, could help out with our wolfpower-shortage problem and lend a hand to our builders.”
“I—excuse me?” Jasper asks, so low even I can hardly make him out.
“Yeah, you know, put those alpha muscles to some use,” Omar teases. “Since Tomas here is in charge of the project and knows a lot about your mother, we thought it was a great win-win.”
“We’ll be glad of the assistance,” Tomas says. “This school is exactly the type of project your mother would have shepherded when she was still with us.”
“You want me to help build a school?” Jasper asks, still incredulous.
At that moment a handful of kids come running by, screaming and laughing and almost knocking Jasper right off his feet. Jasper watches them like bugs he’d rather squish.
“Jasper is actually great with kids,” I say, catching the concerned expression on Tomas’s face. “He and his little sister get on like nobody’s business.”
“Max,” Jasper says through gritted teeth.
“What? It’s true!”
“Of course, if hard labor isn’t your thing we’re also short of a teacher or two. You could help out with the children’s lessons?”
Jasper looks over at the mass of kids, their hands shooting eagerly into the air to answer a question, shouting for attention, getting into scuffles, pulling hair, picking noses. Eventually he sighs.
“Pass me a hammer.”
“Wonderful,” Tomas says, gesturing for Jasper to follow. “Let’s get you all set up.”
“See ya,” Omar says in the most patronizing tone. “I’ll take care of Max.”
Jasper is hesitant to move.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”
Eventually, he follows Tomas toward the half-built school tent, but not without looking back, all worried and uncomfortable, to give me a reluctant wave.
“He’ll fit right in with the other builders,” Omar says. “They hate unnecessary conversation.”
I roll my eyes but smile a little. It’s sort of fun the way he makes Jasper squirm. I just hope Jasper can learn a little bit about his mom while also hammering away.
“Okay,” Omar continues. “You ready to meet Yoki?”
