Amber Flame (The Flame Series Book 4) (17 page)

But along with Sydon’s twisted view of the world came a kind of charisma that drew dozens of loyal rogues to his service.

Instinctively, Fergus knew Sydon was up to something. He’d already coordinated the sniper-attack in the forest opposite Warren’s house, which meant he was communicating with his troops. He probably had been from the time Fergus had locked him up.

“Thanks, Harley. Keep a close watch on him.”

“Will do.”

When Mary returned to the living room, she wore a fresh pair of jeans, though a darker blue this time, and a black top with a narrow silver belt at the waist. She’d pulled back a portion of her long, blond hair, setting off her full cheekbones.

His chest expanded at the sight of her, and his feet were in motion before she’d taken five steps into the room.

He took her rolling flight bag from her, which made her brows lift. “That’s not necessary. Honest, it’s not heavy.”

“I know. But let me do it for you anyway.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then smiled. “I’m so used to doing things for myself that your offer took me by surprise. But, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. Are you ready to head back to Warren’s?”

“I am. I heard you talking earlier. Was that Warren?”

“No. It was Harley, my number one. He’ll be an alpha soon.”

She got a funny look on her face. “Which one is he?”

Fergus had to remind himself that she’d been in the dreamglide the night prior, hovering over his entire compound. She’d probably seen Harley, but didn’t know who he was. “He’s a couple inches shorter than me, has light blue eyes and long auburn hair. He wears a double braid on the left side of his head.”

“I remember him now.”

When she got very quiet, he asked, “Can you pick him out of the crowd as you review your memories?”

“He was imprisoned when we arrived, wasn’t he?”

“That’s right.”

When she still remained quiet, he turned to her. “What gives?”

He was surprised by the shocked-out look on her face. “I don’t know. Would it be fair to say he’s your most trusted wolf?”

“Yes.” Fergus felt irritated by Mary’s current state, as though she knew something she didn’t want to say. “Mary, tell me what’s going on.”

“And you trust Harley?”

“Yes. I have no reason not to, but I take it you have a concern?”

She blinked several times in a row and he could feel her distress. “Fergus, I know two things right now: How much you trust him even to the marrow of your wolf bones. But I also know you need to be careful. Something isn’t right with him.”

Her words angered him. She didn’t even know Harley, yet somehow she’d judged him.

He needed her to know the truth. “Do you have any idea how many times Harley has saved my ass? A dozen, at least. Maybe two. He’s been my right arm from the beginning. My guards told me he tried to protect the Gordion wolf who got hurt in the dungeon cell? Then he’d been knocked unconscious for interfering, his leg sliced up. He would have been the next to fall to their swords except that my appearance in the hall distracted Sydon’s men. You can ask any of the men what happened.”

Her expression grew grave, her cheeks smoothing out as she held her lips together firmly. Finally, she responded, “I can see that what I’ve said has caused you tremendous distress and for that I’m sorry. I also won’t argue with you about the accuracy of my fae senses; you must judge that for yourself. I only ask that you consider the possibility that something isn’t right.”

He drew a harsh breath through rippling nostrils. “You’re wrong. And if I can’t trust this wolf, then Savage has no chance at all.”

She looked as though she wanted to say more. Her lips parted, then closed several times. Finally, she nodded. “I understand, and I won’t bring it up again. Did you speak with Warren? How is everything else at his compound?”

Fergus was grateful for the abrupt shift in subject. “He’ll be putting steaks on the grill as soon as it’s full dark.” His anger started diminishing in stages. On a rational level, he knew he shouldn’t be so defensive about Harley, but any kind of accusation seemed unthinkable.

However, Mary had powerful fae abilities and he had to respect her concerns.

Mentally setting aside the subject of his second-in-command, he continued, “Warren is worried, of course, and thinks that Sydon is planning to take control of Savage. At this point, we all have reason to be concerned well beyond his attempted takeover of my pack.”

Mary didn’t look any less grim, but her features had started to soften and with a slight curve of her lips, she offered, “And where would we be without some madman making a push to take over the world?”

He chuckled. “You’re right. Some things never change.” He then glanced around. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Then we should go.”

~ ~ ~

Mary wasn’t much of an eat-a-big-meal-first kind of person. But she did appreciate the necessity for wolves, especially of the male variety, to chow down. And the smell of steaks charring on the grill actually brought a couple of rumbles shaking her stomach as well.

By the time Fergus brought her a small ribeye with a side of potato salad, she had no hesitation accepting the plate. She was definitely embracing her wolf-side.

She stuck to her coffee, though. Most of the pack was drinking beer, though she’d heard wolves could metabolize alcohol better than most species.

Coffee, a steak and potatoes. Not exactly a fae first-meal. She usually had yogurt and fruit. But the wolf in her salivated, and she dug in.

A lot of laughter rang around the belowground communal eating area. At least a hundred sat down to share the meal. Though this was Warren’s compound, she’d noticed a similar set-up at the Gordion second level when she’d cruised through in her dream-glide.

She watched another group of wolves serve and do clean-up. “Does the pack have hired help?”

Fergus glanced toward the area where wolves moved in and out of the large commercial kitchen. “No, we all take turns on clean up.”

“Even you?”

He grinned. “All right, most of us work the kitchens. Those of us who serve on the border patrol are allowed to skip our turns, as well as the warriors who guard the compound.”

She held his gaze. “But that makes sense to me. If you lay down your life every night for the good of your territory, you should be given a pass on regular chores.”

Though the tension between herself and Fergus had passed, she still worked hard to restrain the deep anxiety she felt about Harley. She knew something was terribly wrong with the wolf; every fae sense she possessed had gone into overdrive the moment Fergus had mentioned his name. Yet she had no idea what it could be. Harley sounded like a good man.

She’d completely understood Fergus’s anger. He didn’t want to believe anything bad about his most trusted wolf. And if treachery existed with someone so close to him, then who could he ever rely on? But with so much at stake, she knew she couldn’t let her fae instincts rest idle. She could only hope that if Harley was a traitor, his actions would reveal themselves long before she had to confront Fergus again.

For now, she enjoyed her meal as well as the sight of Warren taking care of his pack.

At first, she’d thought Warren would join them. But from the time they’d arrived and he’d shown them to their table, he’d never once sat down. Instead, he moved through the room, and it seemed to her he made an effort to talk to everyone. He had excellent eye-contact. She supposed his pack was used to the scars on his head and face, as well as the partial-baldness and the tattoos.

He was an excellent leader, attentive to his people the way Fergus was with the Gordion Pack. She watched several of the female wolves track him as he moved. She understood. He was powerful, a lot of man to watch.

She felt Fergus’s hand suddenly on her knee, squeezing gently. But it felt more like a warning than a sign of affection.

She glanced at him. By now she’d finished her steak and a server had carried her plate away. With a fresh cup of coffee, she sat with her elbows on the table, the way many wolves did, and supported the mug with both hands.

What is it?
she asked.

Stop looking at him.

She was surprised.
You mean Warren?

That’s exactly what I mean.

She shifted slightly in her seat so she could meet his gaze fully.
Do you do the same thing at meals with your pack?

He glanced back at Warren.
Make the rounds?

She smiled.
Is that what you call talking to everyone?

Yes. Most of the alphas I know use a communal meal as much for chowing down as for staying in close contact with each pack member.

Mary sighed heavily. This was as different from Revel and her life as a fae as anything could be.
Would your alpha female be expected to do the same?
Mary wasn’t naïve. She knew that unusual forces were at work in her life, and there was a chance she could make the cut as Fergus’s mate. She needed to know what would be expected of her.

I think I know what’s going on in your head. You’re trying to guess what your duties would be if this fell to you. But try not to think of it that way. Instead, use your fae senses. What does the situation tell you?
He chuckled softly, a low hoarse wolf sound.
Because I think you’re too much wolf right now and not enough fae.

The comment surprised her. But as she glanced out at the wolves dining together, she focused on her fae ability to sense things. What came back was a strange rush of speed and oneness, as though the pack had a strong central unity definitely not found in Revel.

She also saw that the ease with which Warren performed his task wasn’t because of his natural abilities, but because the pack carried him from one person to the next. She found it hard to fathom, but there it was. Warren wasn’t doing this alone in the same way Fergus didn’t care for his pack on his own.

It also explained why, until Fergus defeated Sydon in a dominance battle, the pack wouldn’t be able to accept him as their alpha. The Gordion wolves had already started forging a bond with Sydon, however unwanted.

She turned back to Fergus once more.
I’m amazed.

It’s very different, isn’t it?

There’s a oneness of thought that I didn’t see before.

It’s also the reason I can’t be with my pack. They’re in the middle of a bonding process with Sydon.

I know. I sense that as well.
Her shoulders sank.
Fergus, this must be terrible for them because of who Sydon is?

Pain flashed through his eyes.
I think the suffering is as much mine as theirs. But the bond is also different from what you might think. It’s hard to explain, but bonding doesn’t require approval or appreciation. It’s very wolf and one of the reasons packs can be as strong as they are, even if there’s an absence of morality in the alpha himself. Bonding is chemical, not personal.

He pushed his plate away and swigged his beer, then continued.
It doesn’t help that Sydon is a charismatic entity because not everyone knows how bad he is. His rogue following is proof of the support he can garner.

This time, she put her hand on his knee.
This must be killing you.

Waiting is hard. My first impulse when I woke up, was to go straight to the Gordion Compound and kill the bastard. I might have, if I hadn’t already discussed everything with the head of the pack council.

With Andrew Dean? You never told me this, Fergus. What did he say?

He held her gaze, one hand on his beer bottle.
Because Sydon already made a deal with the cartels, Dean believes that if Sydon was killed outright, the cartels would take revenge. And the last thing we want is a war with the drug lords.

She shook her head.
But what if it comes to that despite your efforts? The cartels are always looking for a way to make inroads into a territory and Sydon was definitely holding that door wide. I can’t imagine, even if you bested him in a dominance fight, that the drug lords would give up such a powerful advantage.

Fergus shrugged, but his jaw had grown tight and his nostrils elongated.
I can’t possibly predict what the cartels might or might not do. So, I’m moving forward by the book because it will give me the best advantage legally.

She remembered his distress over his dreams.
You’re worried the whole territory is headed for war.

He held her gaze.
I am.
His dark eyes glinted with both fear and determination.

Mary sighed deeply, though it carried an odd wolf-grunt that had several nearby wolves turning to stare at her. She didn’t mind. She was an oddity to herself right now so of course she’d be the same to everyone else.

She wasn’t sure if the situation could get much worse than the idea that Savage was headed for a cataclysmic event. She thought back to hauling Fergus out of the Graveyard, but to what purpose? To lead the charge in a war? To mate with him? To become a fae-wolf? Would his pack ever accept a woman like her?

There was a larger question, however, one she struggled to ask given the bizarre and swift way events had moved over the past forty-eight hours. But she needed to ask it because it went to basic mental health, something even an
alter
person had to honor:
Did she even want this, any of it?

Somehow, though, she knew she’d already answered the question the moment she’d agreed to come to Savage in the first place. Yes, Sharon had persuaded her and yes, she’d felt it in her bones as well that she would be needed here. But it had been her choice, one she’d made willingly.

She calculated the number of times she’d played a part in either saving Fergus’s life or keeping him safe. The numbers kept stacking up. Would this be her role even beyond the last few encounters?

As Warren reached the final few tables, Mary saw that he looked solemn. But the color of his eyes had deepened to a lustrous emerald. She glanced past him to his wolves and knew that the way he’d just connected with them had added to the beauty of his eyes.