Black Rook (16 page)

“Cornerstone, Pennsylvania,” Devlin replied. “Our Alpha, Thomas McQueen, has been unable to make contact, and we have urgent news to share with your Alpha, Mitchell Geary.” Name-dropping was not only polite, it also told the other loup that they were in the know and not just guessing in order to gain access.

The local loup sniffed them both, and Rook returned the favor, catching a strong odor of fish.

“All right, go on,” the local said.

He waved at his companions, and they cleared the road. Devlin drove through, and a few more yards down, the track ended in a clearing at the edge of a rushing, south-flowing tributary of the Potomac River. Dozens of scrap-wood cabins and canvas tents were scattered in the clearing, clustered around different fire pits and clotheslines. People stood near their tents and cabins, watching with wary eyes as strangers came into their sanctuary. Their clothes were simple, in neutral colors, and most were barefoot. Half a dozen loup in beast form stood like sentries at various points around the camp.

Rook pulled a dirty work rag from under the front seat and wiped it down his right arm, hoping it did enough to remove Brynn’s scent. Devlin arched an eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment. They climbed out of the truck, then stood together in front of it. Waiting, as Father told them to wait. Approaching any further without permission could be misinterpreted as aggression, and the last thing they needed to cause was accidental violence.

A cabin door opened and a man walked out into the shade. He strode toward them with his shoulders back, head high, and a slight limp. His hair was white, his wrinkled and scarred face a history of his life so far, but his eyes glinted with intelligence and danger. Rook kept his gaze on the man’s chest as he approached. From Father’s description—and the man’s strong scent of sour pine—Rook was certain this was Alpha Geary.

“I know your scent,” Geary said. “You’re a McQueen.”

“Yes, sir, Rook McQueen,” he replied. “Son of Thomas, who sends his regards. This is one of our enforcers, Devlin Burke.”

“Welcome to Potomac, then, boys. Your visit must be mighty important for Thomas to send you all this way. Our damned phone doesn’t always work way out here.”

“It is very urgent.” Rook glanced around at their captive audience. No one stood within twenty feet of them, but they weren’t hiding the fact that they were trying to listen. “And it’s a matter we may want to discuss in private.”

“There’s no private in this camp, son. What’s the news that’s brought you here to me?”

Rook took a bracing breath, then launched into the story, from Joe Reynolds’s first phone call to everything they’d discussed on the conference call that morning. He left out any mention of Brynn’s presence in town—because of Jillian’s group, Reynolds was the only Alpha who knew they had a mini-Magus in Cornerstone, and Rook wanted to protect her from outside scrutiny as long as possible—as well as the possible connection between Shay Butler and the half-breeds who attacked Stonehill.

Gasps went up around the camp at the news of the death toll. Geary’s expression shifted between horrified and furious. “That’s unbelievable,” he said, his voice edged with a low growl. “Even with a Magus on their side, how do half a dozen people kill three hundred?”

“We don’t know,” Rook said. “As the responding runs, my father and Alpha Reynolds are working closely together to investigate this. We held a conference call this morning with the rest of the run Alphas, so they are aware of what’s going on.”

“One downside to choosing a more natural way of life is lack of communication with the outside world. It’s also one of the greatest benefits, except in cases like this.” He gave Rook a shrewd look. “I must say, I appreciate the personal touch, but wouldn’t your time be better spent investigating and not playing messenger?”

Rook struggled to maintain his passive stance and not bristle. “I am investigating, sir.”

Geary blinked hard, then narrowed his eyes. “I see. Old grudges die hard, I take it.”

“No grudges, Alpha. We’re being thorough and weeding out every possibility so that we can better see the answer.”

“Thorough, you say. From your father’s point of view, I can see this as being thorough, sure. Last big outbreak of violence among loup was blamed on me, as I recall it.”

Rook bit down hard on his tongue. Geary had been rightfully blamed for the violence caused by his run’s loup, whether or not he’d ordered the raid twenty-two years ago. The raid that left Bishop horribly wounded and their mother dead. “An Alpha is responsible for his people,” he said stiffly.

“Yes, we are, you’re right. Then let me put a few things to rest on behalf of my people. We’ve got no reason to stir up trouble, and sure as hell no reason to go out there and kill a whole town of loup garou. I got no grudges against Andrew Butler or anyone else, and I am sorrier than you know that his people are dead. You take those words right back to your Alpha, son.”

“I will,” Rook said.

“I’ll also say here and now that I’m truly sorry for what happened way back then, with your brother and your mother. You don’t have to believe me, but those are the facts.”

“Thank you.”

“Good then.”

A man about Rook’s age stepped out of the line of curious faces and approached. He brought the faint scent of pine, as well as a strong resemblance to Geary. He gave Rook a hard, distrusting stare, then hunched under Geary’s attention. “Are our guests staying for supper?”

“You are certainly welcome,” Geary said to Rook and Devlin. “It’s a long trip from Cornerstone, and I won’t turn you back on the road right away.”

Rook exchanged a look with Devlin, whose passive expression said he’d go along with whatever Rook decided. Despite Geary’s assurance that Potomac wasn’t involved, Rook did not trust the man. Maybe old hurts colored his judgment, but he saw no harm in staying for a few hours and observing the run. He was incredibly curious how the full-blooded loup managed to live alongside so many half-breeds.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Rook said. “We’d like to stay.”

“Good.” Geary swept a hand out toward the man with his scent. “This is my son, Jonas.” After Rook and Devlin introduced themselves, Geary said, “Jonas, why don’t you show them around a bit?”

Jonas looked like he’d rather chew glass than play tour guide, but he nodded. “Of course, Alpha.”

“With your permission,” Rook said to Geary, “I’d like to call my father and let him know we’ve spoken.”

Geary laughed. “If your cellular can get a signal out here, you’re more than welcome.”

“Thank you.”

It took a bit of wandering around with his phone in the air, but Rook finally found a location that gave him two bars of service. He had to stand on a bare boulder that jutted out over the river, with a shaft of summer sunshine glaring down on him from above, in order to place the call. Devlin watched from close by and tried to make polite conversation with Jonas, who didn’t seem to be returning the favor.

“Thomas McQueen.”

“We’re here, in Potomac,” Rook replied.

“And?”

He repeated what Geary had said, as verbatim as memory allowed, including the apologies. “We’re going to stay for a few more hours, just to interact.”

“That’s a good idea. Do you trust Geary’s word?”

“So far, yes. The group here seems small, and Devlin hasn’t mentioned scenting anything familiar from Stonehill. How is—?” He started to ask how Brynn was, but that was a ridiculous question, considering. Father had called two hours ago to share his conversation with her about elemental Magus powers and that he’d forbidden her to leave town. She was probably furious and freaked out. “How’s Shay Butler?”

“Still unconscious. She’ll need to be woken soon, though. It’s been too long since she’s eaten. What’s that background noise?”

“The river. I’m close to it. The reception out here is pretty spotty.”

“Of course. I’ll leave a message if anything new comes up, so make sure you check your phone frequently.”

“I will.”

“She’s fine, too, Rook. Bored, but fine.”

Rook smiled at the rushing water. He didn’t have to ask to know his father meant Brynn, and he was grateful for the news. “Thank you. I’ll let you know when we’re heading home.”

“All right.”

He put his phone away, then joined Devlin and Jonas for a tour of the camp.

***

Brynn realized quickly that not only was she still forbidden from leaving town, she was also apparently not allowed to wander around without a shadow. At some point during her day, she noticed that O’Bannen was following her. He kept a respectable distance, but that didn’t stop her from feeling like a criminal falsely imprisoned for a crime she hadn’t committed. And it prevented her from any possibility of sneaking out of town, had she chosen that route. O’Bannen’s constant presence prompted her decision to spend the majority of her afternoon in the McQueen library, immersed in a world of new and antique books, hoping to distract herself from the questions that kept haunting her.

Should I give up the fire elementals? Keep silent? Which is the bigger betrayal?

The dead loup were not her responsibility; they were not her people. They were, however, still living beings whose lives had been taken without cause or provocation, and in a horribly brutal manner. They deserved justice. And no one knew for certain if the killers would strike again, or where.

Has Father even noticed I’m missing?

She had no way of knowing. Her cell was still locked up tight, and she hadn’t seen a landline anywhere in the house. She doubted her shadow would let her use his. She wanted to imagine her father had noticed her absence by now, and that he was beside himself with worry. She wanted to imagine him demanding the whole power of the Congress help him find her. She wanted to imagine his joy and relief at finding her safe and sound, if a little shaken.

Her imagination wasn’t that vivid.

The back door squealed open, and two sets of footsteps entered the back hall. She’d left the library door open—mostly so that O’Bannen would leave her in peace for a while and do his guarding elsewhere downstairs, which he seemed to be doing—and voices drifted in from the hall.

“—downstairs and shift after I eat,” Bishop said. “This is the absolutely most inconvenient time to have my quarterly.”

“We can’t choose our times,” said Jillian Reynolds. Brynn had met her briefly after returning to the house from Dr. Mike’s office, and she found the female loup incredibly intimidating.

“I know that, Jillian. Don’t tell me you’ve never been inconvenienced by your quarterly.”

They seemed to have paused outside of the kitchen, and Brynn felt a sudden pang of guilt. She wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose, and now she was curious as to what this quarterly was—yet another loup garou thing she didn’t know about, like the high importance they put on scent.

“I have,” Jillian replied. “We all have. Isn’t that why your brother sabotaged his music career?”

“That gossip made it all the way to Delaware?”

“The concert was in a few of the papers. It wasn’t exactly a secret.”

Rook sabotaged his music career?

Bishop made a sound that might have been a snort. “He loved performing. Music’s his passion. I hate that he had to give that up.”

“A loup’s first priority is to the preservation of the run. You know that.”

“I do, and so does he. That doesn’t make giving up your dreams any easier, especially when you’re young.”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re afraid his new dream is to supplant you as the next Alpha?”

“He can’t supplant me, Jillian. He’s a Black Wolf. The position is his if he wants it.”

“Does he want it?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think so, other times I think not. Right now, it isn’t even a priority. I need to eat, so I can go downstairs and shift.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

A door swung open and shut. Boot heels clicked toward the library. Brynn held her breath, willing Jillian to continue on past, but she walked right in the door. She didn’t seem surprised to see Brynn curled up on one end of the long leather sofa, and Brynn flushed bright red.

“I’d accuse you of eavesdropping,” Jillian said, “only we weren’t being very discreet.” She smiled, and Brynn relaxed a fraction. Jillian had an angular face, straight hair, and bangs cut neatly across the line of her brow—combined, it gave her a severe look that was very intimidating. Even when she smiled.

“Rook sabotaged his own music career?” Brynn asked. She didn’t mean to, but curiosity got the best of her. The entire conversation had confused her.

“Yes, less than a week after he graduated college. A few months ago, his band was headlining a big-name music festival. It would have been the concert that got them noticed, maybe made them famous. Scouts and producers were there. They had to play a night concert and Rook tried to get them into another slot, but the organizers wouldn’t change a thing. So Rook was unable to show up for the performance.”

“Because the attention would be too much for the town? For his family?”

“Yes, that was always a possibility he faced, but that wasn’t the reason he couldn’t show up.”

“Then what was?”

Jillian sat on the opposite end of the couch, maintaining perfect posture even on the soft cushions. “Do you know what a loup garou’s quarterly is?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Shifting into our beast form is painful, and it’s physically taxing once we shift back to skin, so we do it very rarely. However, to maintain a balance between our dual natures, we endure a forced change once every one hundred and one days. From sunset to sunrise, our beast takes over. During the quarterly shift, our instinctive animal nature is in control, rather than our conscious mind. Many homes, including this one, have a reinforced room for the loup to spend the night in, so he or she doesn’t accidentally injure someone.”

“And Bishop is going through this tonight?”

Jillian nodded. “Yes. He’ll eat a large meal, then be locked downstairs in the basement until sunrise. That’s why Rook went out of town this afternoon instead of Bishop.”