I fumble with the door key. I feel clumsy. Werewolves need as much sleep as humans, and I haven’t had enough. I get the key into the door on the third try and stumble inside, letting it close behind me. It’s Sarah’s apartment, not my own room, but it feels like home anyway and a weight rolls from my shoulders now I’m back.
I lift my head, and there is an angel standing in front of me. An angel wearing a silky little top and tiny lacy panties. An angel with a gleaming halo of black hair framing her face. The light of the lamps paints the softness of her dark skin with an aura of rich gold. Her feet are bare, the nail of each toe glittering silver. My eyes follow the long sweep of her slender legs, past the enticing sliver of skin between her panties and her top, up past the bow of her collarbones and the soft skin at the side of her neck where I set my Mark on her. There’s no makeup to hide her beauty, no
“/...Imogen?/” I hear Aiden’s voice. I can’t see him. I am floating in a mist, but I am warm and relaxed. It feels the way that clouds look. Soft and fluffy. It smells faintly of candyfloss. “/Father?/” I don’t recognise the voice. It’s a girl’s voice, or that of a young woman. “/No, it’s Aiden./” Aiden is talking to someone? I can’t see either of them, just this peach-pink fluffiness. I don’t feel scared. Am I drugged?
When I wake up, I’m in a comfy tangle of Sarah and bed clothes. I can guess the time by the faint light creeping past the curtains. I don’t think it’ll be too long before the alarm clock reminds us that I have college. I mumble some sort of complaint, and get a sleepy response from my Mate that makes even less sense than I did.I spit out a few strands of Sarah’s glossy hair. “What time is it?”She gropes for the clock and turns it so she can see the numbers. “Early enough to mess about in bed before getting up?” she suggests, squirming around until she’s nose to nose with me and winding her arms around my neck.“We should probably talk,” I say with a sigh of regret. Messing about in bed sounds way more fun. “I couldn’t sleep at first, las
We do manage to get out of bed, dressed, and breakfasted, in good time for Aiden to be on his way to college. By now we almost have a routine. Give it another week and it will probably have become a habit, unless we are interrupted by further disasters. Disasters do rather seem to have become normality.I am uncertain whether to contact Blackmarsh now about the sale, or whether to wait until it’s obvious that Cavendish has been able to stop it. I don’t want to get everybody’s hopes up and then find that Aiden’s plan fails. Nor do I want them to be driving themselves to their wit’s end trying to work out what to do to stop the sale, only for them to learn that their efforts were wasted and everything in hand. In the end, I leave a message on the answerphone saying that Aiden has put a plan into action that might stop the sale, but we won’t know for certain that it’s
It feels strange to have a normal day at college. What most students would think of as normal, I mean. Normal for me seems to involve vampires, muggers, shoplifters, kidnapping and ghosts. It’s kind of fun. It’s even more fun having a private way for the Pack to chat without anybody else knowing, although we don’t use it much because that would leave Tala out. It’s only a half day. We’re supposed to be spending the afternoon on project work, the photography and our Art Accessibility pieces. We head over to Shelley’s place instead, to get ready for Tom’s attempt at reconnaissance. “So, I’ve been wondering about Tom’s S.E.P. field,” Shelley says as we’re still crowded in her hallway. She leads the way to the kitchen, talking as she goes. “Tom, is there any magic in your family? Any witches? Any of your ancestors get cursed?”
I usually ignore my phone if it rings during break, but the ringtone tells me it’s a call from Blackmarsh. To be honest, I’m glad of the excuse to break off from the conversation. The talk has been about nothing but the Rhapsody. There has been a lot of second-guessing management’s plans and speculating on exactly where the performances will be. I doubt anybody knows for certain yet. Even if Nick started making calls before he even spoke to me, booking multiple venues for a one-hundred-strong orchestra is not something done in a few minutes.So I excuse myself, and pick the call up with a quick “Hold on one moment,” so I can step out of the break room for some privacy. “Okay, now I’m somewhere quiet.”The confusion and resulting
It’s clear pretty quickly that Tala isn’t okay with things. I don’t know what the difference is between magic for finding things out, and the don’t-see-me thing Shelley wants to do on Tom. Tala’s finding it hard to explain. Something about it having seemed okay to look at something that was already there, but not to do something new. That, and her father would be unhappy with her if he ever found out, which is the part of her explanation that makes most sense to me. It’s obvious she’s trying really hard not to just call us all wrong in the eyes of her religion, but I think that’s the real problem. It’s Shelley who’s the most understanding. “Of course you have to stay true to what you believe in. Personal integrity is important. We won’t reject you for it. We’ll admire you for it. If you don’t think you can watch, we can get you a taxi, or you and Ella could go and make sandwiches in the kitchen?”
I am not expecting to find Nick hovering urgently after the performance, right at the door to the break room, ready to pounce before I can go. “Sarah, splendid, lovely, you don’t need to rush off do you?”“It is rather late,” I point out.“I’m sure it won’t take too long. Customer satisfaction, you know? They pay our salaries, have to keep them happy,” he waffles, which is Nick code for “One of our major sponsors is making noises about pulling out, please charm them into sticking around.”“Am I to know their name?” Perhaps it is more than one, or a married couple. Some people would feel insulted if you didn’t know their partner’s name. &ldquo
“Tala?” I’m still not sure how I do what I’m doing. I’m just thinking about who I want to talk to over the Link, and that’s seemed to work. It’s not working now though. Tala doesn’t answer. She’s looking at me intently, though.I remember my fathers reaction, when I couldn’t hear him. The feel of his hand when he slapped me, the first time. The crushing sense of rejection and failure. I don’t care if Tala can’t hear me and can never hear me, if she wants to be part of the Pack then she is part of the Pack, and I won’t ever let anyone say anything else.The others are curious. I can hear their questions.
*** Some Time Later...*** “/Aiden? Can you hear me? Aiden? Please?/” “/Huh? Who? Imogen? That you?/” I really wasn't expecting to hear from my sister. Not this way. A text, sure. I’ve been bad at texting her, despite my promises. A message from her complaining about it wouldn’t surprise me. “/Aiden, thank the Goddess!/” Is she crying? My little sister? “/Imogen, what’s wrong
Everything is downhill now. Goldhawk’s mission is over pretty much as soon as they arrive. Everything else for them is just meeting people, and that doesn’t need much organisation. It’ll happen, with Badger’s Den giving them somewhere to stay for the night. The two new Mates are going to want the visit to go on longer, but Mark will need to get back. Either Paul will stay behind, or Caroline will visit London, probably. I hope it forces Ian into doing something. Join, Challenge, I don’t care as long as it becomes his job to keep the kids out of trouble until they’re a couple of years older. I finally get a bit of time without someone wanting me to do something,or decide something, or explain something. I prop myself against the wall of the building, and stuff my hands in my pockets. There’s a papery crinkle. I pull out the folded sheet, and remember why I put
“Never rains but pours,” I sigh, linking my arm through Aiden and kissing his cheek with sympathy. “Or is it no rest for the wicked? My poor sweet Mate, pour yourself onto the quadbike, Reese can drive you to meet them, and I’ll come on one of the horses. Timothy’s perfectly capable of seeing our unwanted guests off, we can leave Shelley, Mary and Tom with him. Baxter too, unless he’s already seen more of Black than he wants to.”Aiden leans into me. I can fee him collecting himself before he speaks. “Goldhawk are here to talk to Badger’s Den anyway. I’ll talk to Caroline, or that other one, the one they had as spokesman. Let them know to expect guests and see if they can put the visitors up somewhere.”I elect myself to update Timothy and put him in charge of things in the village, and to give T
“Fly?” I swap a puzzled look with Sarah. “That’s not one I know about. Command any werewolf, speak to any werewolf like a Pack link. And immunity to silver. Sort of. Still hurts like a… still hurts, but it’ll heal up as fast as any other wound, won’t knock me out. Been like that since forever.”Ian harrumphs. First time I’ve heard someone actually do that. “How long is forever?”“Few thousand years at least. Far back as I can remember any lives. Not that I’ve remembered all of them, there's way too many.”“That’s not a problem most werewolves have,” Ian says quietly, frowning. “What’s your… plan? Your intentions. Your Majesty.”I can feel my sho
The earth is cool under my butocks and Aiden is a furnace above me. I’m pinned on the ground with my jeans around my ankles and I can’t quite remember how I got there. Rough bark tugs at my hair and prints itself into the back of my wrists. Urgent, demanding hands ruck my shirt and bra up and free my breasts.“Please. I need you.” Aiden’s voice is soft and pleading. His hands, his body, they are anything but. They don’t plead. They demand, they take. One hand tangles with my hair and wrists, yanking stray hairs, splitting fragments of bark from the tree bole beneath and behind us. The tang of sap fights against the musk of sweat and desire. Aiden’s hips thrust between my legs and my back scrapes against the dirt and leaves and brown pine needles beneath us.He’s inside me already, driving hard and fast. His sweat
An angry opponent makes mistakes.That’s what my father and Caleb never understood. Anger is a weapon to their thinking, not a liability. Black is cast from the same mould. I’ve wound him up by staying calm, by being polite, and most of all by humiliating him, and he can’t see clearly through the red mist of fury. He’s three hundred pounds of muscle and rage, as unstoppable, dangerous and terrifying as a runaway locomotive, charging down on me. His free hand is out with claws ready, blocking any escape. Blinding sunlight flashes from the silver of his blade as it sweeps down.Now, Frost whispers, lending me his speed. I slip beneath Black’s raised elbow, drawing a line of fire across his exposed stomach with my sword. I spin and dance backwards as Black skids and stumbles before he crosses the outside edge of the duelling square. &
Black’s arrogance wins out over any caution he might have. He signals to one of the werewolves with him, announcing his Second.“What’s he playing at?” Baxter mutters when he realises that Aiden isn’t just buying time with Black’s Challenge, but is actively looking to fight that way.Baxter isn’t Pack, not yet, not officially. I doubt I can speak to him with the Pack link. It’s Aiden himself who can do that. I don’t even want to risk whispering. Werewolves have good hearing. I nudge his arm, to get his attention, and take my phone out.Aiden is considering Baxter as a Packmate. Blackmarsh trusts him. I don’t think Aiden will mind. “immune 2 silver” I type. “knows sword”. I turn the screen so Baxter can see it but, hopefully, nobody e
Nothing’s ever simple. Now I’ve got Caroline to look after. It’s irresponsible to bring her along, but it’d be worse telling her to stay out of it and expecting her to obey. There’s Alphas that nobody would dare disobey. My father, for example. I’m not him. “/Am I a bad Alpha?/” I make sure it’s just my Pack hearing that. The Peace Seekers. They’re not the right people to ask though. None of them are werewolves. “/You think we’d let you stick around if you were, boss?/” Sarah reaches over to give my hand a squeeze. “/If this is about Caroline, you said it yourself, if you tried sending her away
I’ve never really watched war films. I’ve never really been that interested. It feels as if I’m in one now, although I have no idea how accurate that thought is. We’ve crossed the nature reserve as if it’s enemy territory, constantly on the alert even though we’re keeping to the public paths, so we’re not, technically, on Badger’s Den territory. “If we’re talking technicalities, that would be Aiden’s territory anyway,” Reese points out when I mention it. We see neither hide nor hair of the Pack that claims the surrounding land, and veer out of the reserve into farmland where we are coming up on the small coastal village where Baxter says he’s being held. It looks like one of those lost-in-time places where cosy TV murders are set, except half the houses are holiday cottages now and empty for most of the year. It’s ever so slightly spooky, riding past bl