I’m avoiding the whole Werewolf King thing by ignoring it. I go to college, I work on my scent project for Accessibility, I get the camera figured out for Photography, I hang out with my Pack, I work, I go home to Sarah. The Pack have figured out that something’s not quite right, of course. I tell them it’s a werewolf thing. I need to tell them about it, but it’s a long term thing. It will wait a bit. I’d like to just forget about it for now.
Sunday rolls around quickly, grey but dry and likely to stay that way. Overcast is good. Jade’s hoping she can join us, and sunshine would make that impossible. Other than being able to catch up with Jade, Sunday is something else I’ve been trying to put off in my mind. Until now, Sarah has been one little world for me, and the rest of the Pack has been a different one. Now they’re bumping into each other. I roll out of bed early, too keyed up to stay lying around an
I want to get this right. I know how important these people are to Aiden. They are not only friends, as Francesca and Holly are to me. They are also family to him. They have fought beside him. They have accepted all of him, not just the human parts. They are not purely human themselves. I hope they can accept me, too. For the moment, all I hope for is that we can get to know each other a little better on this outing. I could probably have placed names to faces even without Aiden’s introduction, from the descriptions that have crept into his conversations about them. It’s interesting to see how his descriptions contrast with what my own would have been. Tom, with the sort of white-boy tan that suggests holidays in expensive sunny locations and the accent of private-school-education privilege, in-your-face and brash; Tom, who has gone through life trying desperately to be seen because his Fae
We’ve been shopping for an hour and only Tom has bought anything. Behind me, I can hear Shelley and Tala in deep discussion about theology, ethics and morality. In front of me, Jade, Sarah and Reese are discussing martial arts in movies and how realistic they are. Or not. Because of that, I might finally believe that the Pack really will work. They’re just chatting, like friends. Sarah’s had some combat training, I’m pretty sure. She’s talking about it like someone who doesn’t just know the theory.I eye Tom, who’s scuffing along beside me. “So, how ‘bout that Chelsea transfer?” he asks.I know I’m squinting at him in puzzlement. “The what now?”“Football? Wait, American. Soccer?”&
A sudden chill washes over me. This will be harder to fix than a little bit of “Do you know who I am?” I have no doubts that Aiden is the better negotiator, but depending on who these people are, and what they think of werewolves, he may be at a disadvantage. It could be up to the humans. I feel inadequate. “We’re in public,” I say, fighting to keep my voice calm and steady. “Let’s keep this civil. We are here to solve problems, not to cause them. Or to be the problem.” Aiden has come up behind me, a solid presence at my back, helping me keep my mind clear of panic. I rummage through my memory for more of Rupert’s lessons. I never thought I’d be more grateful to listen through his grumbling about the amount of “interperso
“I don’t need a suit!” I squawk, and wince at how squeaky my voice comes out. I don’t need a suit. I really don’t. I don’t like the way the rest of the Pack is looking at me, either.“Oh yes,” breathes Reese.Tom is also giving it an admiring look. “Can’t fault the style.”“Very Bond,” Jade says, the first I’ve heard from her for a while. I wonder what it has to do with Sarah and I being Mates. Most humans don’t have a Mate Bond.
I cannot claim that I know the rest of the Pack that much better as a result of the shopping trip, but it has broken the ice. The situation with Jade, in particular, is less strained. I would not call her a friend, but she is a person to me now, not a cardboard cutout villain. She has a sense of humour. She also has a passionate desire to make the world a better place, which I cannot fault. We are all sprawled on the grass of St. James’s Park, licking our fingers and trying to decide whether we will burst if we eat any more. Seven Dials Market, just along from Covent Garden, has enough food stalls that I think you could try something different every day of the month, and between us we’ve probably bought one of everything. Even Jade has managed to find czernina and blotplättar, which she can tolerate. Now she’s carefully within a patch of tree-cast shade, helping to guard the small mountain of shopping bag
This was a test, I think to myself. Cavendish could have warned us that Sutcliffe was planning revenge. If he’s here, then he knew about this attack. Cavendish is probably telling the truth as well. Just not the whole truth. I doubt he has only one reason for anything he does. He wanted to know how we took out Whitfield. Now he’s rattled. We’ve impressed him. We might even have scared him. Scared people tend to try to kill whatever it is that scares them, so having him scared of us now? That's not good. He’s probably got his big guns along with him. I don’t think he’s the sort of person to take stupid risks. I carry on as if he’s telling the truth. Let him save face. Let his people see us be polite to them. I’m glad my sword has already put itself away. Without it, I don’t look dangerous. Not the way someone like my father or my brother does.
That suit. That suit! Aiden clearly has no idea at all how damn sexy he looks in it. He looks pretty hot in his battered leather jacket, in a rough-around-the-edges and slightly dangerous sort of way. It’s a look that tells the world that he can look after himself so don’t try anything funny. Aiden in the suit? That’s the look that says: you should never have underestimated him, because he has now outwitted and defeated all your goons, dismantled your secret mountain lair, stolen the blueprints to your secrets and strolled out of the front door with the keys to your Ferrari dangling from his finger, while the mountainside explodes behind him.I manage to keep my libido under wraps as the Pack piles into my flat and fills the lounge up with shopping bags. While they eat the promised ice cream- passing th
I start on the commission the very next day. Well, kind of. We have Tutor Group, so I ask Mrs Bird’s advice on the best place to get supplies for a private commission. I figured the college might’ve arranged discounts for students at one of the local art supply stores or something. She just writes me a note for college supplies. As long as you don’t empty the store cupboards or knick stuff to sell it, they’re cool with it.Then I get quizzed on the commission, and I’m kind of stuck to start with, because from what Reese said about how hard it was for his ancestors to track him down, Cavendish can be a private sort of guy. I don’t want to splash his name around if he’s trying to keep it quiet. He’s a patron of Sarah’s orchestra, though, so I just describe him that way. A guy who goes to watch my girlfriend’s orchestra a lot. I almost say “my