Ruffskin (3 page)

To say goodbye, Johnnie realized in the next moment. If he had really attacked, and possibly killed, his mother, then Pack Blue would be after him with a vengeance. Blue was no doubt long tired of losing leaders, especially those killed by fellow Blue. For a son to kill his mother…

Hudson no doubt felt, and not incorrectly, that his days were numbered. Something must have scared or tipped him, however, that he dared to reach out to Peyton to say goodbye before… what? Was he going to run away somewhere else? What had changed things?

He looked up at the sound of footsteps and smiled at Grim. "Well?"

"They recognized him, said he was here to finish up his paperwork and finally get full citizenship just a few days ago. He's always wearing his uniform:  a gray polo with a winged foot and sunburst logo. Fleetfoot Deliveries. They gave me his home address, but I can tell you right now it's bogus."

Johnnie nodded and pushed off the wall. "That is not surprising. So let us go visit his place of employment; I guarantee they have some sort of authentic address."

Once they arrived at Fleetfoot Deliveries headquarters, however, Johnnie once more was forced to wait outside, after being strongly admonished by Grim to hold still again, while Grim went inside to extract answers.

After nearly two hours of waiting, Grim reappeared. "Got it," he said. "You owe me big time for that hassle. I don't think even you are as stubborn as those bastards."

"Is that a challenge?" Johnnie asked.

Grim reached out and pinched his nose. "No, it was not. If you try to make it one, we will go right back to tying you up in ways you won't enjoy, brat."

Johnnie laughed and pressed a kiss to the corner of Grim's mouth. "So where are we going?"

"Not too far from the Bremen, actually. The really, really bad part of town." He took hold of Johnnie and they vanished, reappearing in yet another part of the city.

Johnnie regarded the dilapidated looking apartment building, and then looked over his shoulder at the familiar building across the street. He smiled at Grim, sweet and razor sharp. "Such fond memories, babysitter. I really should have figured out when you walked over the cage that trapped me."

"But you didn't," Grim said smugly.

I really do not think you need to get cocky," Johnnie replied. "Not with your stalker tendencies, your lying, and do not think I have forgotten your ex from earlier today."

Grim rolled his eyes. "Why must I be in love with a princess?"

Johnnie smacked him with his cane and strode up the stairs into the apartment building—

Only to be thrown back when the double doors leading into it were thrown open, sending him tumbling. His nose throbbed with pain from where the door hit it, and he only barely avoided landing in a sludgy puddle.

Steady, familiar arms caught him easily and set him up straight again, and then Grim was gone, bolting after the men who had already vanished around a corner. Wolves, Johnnie would bet his fortune on it. Straightening his clothes, he left Grim to his chase and strode up the stairs and into the apartment building.

When he finally reached it at the end of the fourth floor hall, he was surprised to find the door closed and locked. He had not thought the wolves would bother, given the haste of their departure.  The lock was a simple one, and he had it open in a moment.

Inside, everything was exactly as he had expected to find it. The place was a disaster area, the wolves having thoroughly tossed it. But what had they been looking for other than Hudson? If it was just Hudson, they would not have slit open cushions and torn apart books.

Johnnie picked his way through the mess, examining every object. By the end, however, he was not really certain he had learned anything beyond reaffirming that Hudson was still in love with Peyton.

The scent of myrrh and musk rose caught him a split second before he was roughly grabbed and slammed into a wall, and then pinned there by Grim.

"Unhand me," Johnnie snapped.

"You are an idiot!" Grimm snarled, ignoring the order. "They could have left men behind! Why are you so reckless!"

"Because I can handle wolves!" Johnnie snarled back. "I know you and my father persist in thinking that I am some simpering princess, but I can handle myself."

Grim only made a growly, frustrated noise and kissed him hard enough to bruise Johnnie's lips. "One of these days, Highness…."

"So did you catch the other two?"

"Of course I did," Grim said, glaring.

"And?" Johnnie demanded.

"And I secured them so that I could come fetch a certain royal brat," Grim replied. Johnnie said nothing, but he did let Grim kiss him again. "Shall we then, Highness?"

"We shall," Johnnie replied. "There is nothing of—Wait a moment. Get off me." Pushing Grim impatiently aside, he kicked aside a pillow and knelt, pulling up the corner of a blue rug and picking up what had been all but hidden beneath it. Put there? Doubtfully.

Standing up, he said, "I think we just missed our quarry." He held the necklace out for Grim to see:  a gold medallion inscribed heavily with runes and, from the way he was trying not to sneeze, heavily imbued with magic. It had probably also been washed in demon blood.

"So he's lost his protective charm," Grim rumbled, eyes turning wholly white as he loosed his full power. "The residual power will shield him for a little while, but I'll find him soon enough."

Johnnie nodded. "Take me to the wolves, Grim. I want this mystery over."

Grim obeyed, tugging him close and vanishing. They reappeared in Grim's apartment, a place Johnnie had been surprised to learn about. He had mistakenly assumed that Grim lived with his parents, though in retrospect that made absolutely no sense.

It was a simple studio with a large bed, a small kitchen, a smaller bathroom, soft carpeting, and practically every last inch of available wall space devoted to overstuffed bookcases. There was not even a door or windows—Grim had bricked up and plastered over both, sealing himself inside a tidy little cell.  It allowed him, when he needed, to be completely himself, without any fear of anyone seeing what he could not afford to have seen.

The first time he'd brought Johnnie there, he'd fucked Johnnie hard and fast against one of the bookcases, leaving bruises in awkward places, and sending more than a few books falling to the floor.

Beyond the bookshelves, there was very little in the way of personal items filling the place. A few knick-knacks from his mother on the dresser and two pictures beside his lamp and an alarm clock on the nightstand.

One picture was of Grim's parents, taken while they were at a park. His mother wore mirrored sunglasses to hide her distinctive eyes. They were a very pretty, very happy looking couple.

The second picture was of Johnnie wearing black slacks and a black, green, and gold vest with matching tie with his shirt sleeves rolled up. He was leaning against the pool table, his cue in one hand and the other braced on the edge of the table, smirking at something not in the picture. He remembered the day and what he'd been smirking at, but he did not know how Grim had managed to take his picture without his noticing. Grim, the bastard, refused to say.

At the moment, two very angry wolves were lying on Grim's bed, tied up and gagged.  Their eyes widened, furious struggling freezing when they saw Johnnie.

"Remove their gags," Johnnie said, voice going cool as he assumed a Desrosiers air. "Do not speak until I give you permission," he said coldly when the wolves' gags were removed. "I do not think I need to tell you that you are on Desrosiers territory and your behavior is seriously out of line. Never mind that another of your pack just attacked and almost killed a very good friend of mine in a bar that I own—it is enough that you came here uninvited and for the sole purpose of breaking laws. My father is highly displeased with your pack at present, and he is fully within his rights to strike out with lethal force in retaliation. You have one chance to tell me something that will cause me to stay my father's hand. If I do not like what you have to say … "

"We are only trying to find Hudson—"

"That bastard Peyton had a death order on—"

Johnnie motioned them to silence and said, "One at a time. I do not care if he is marked to die—he has full citizenship here which means by law he is under the care and watch of my father. If you wanted him, you should have petitioned the offices of the Dracula to get him back. Showing up without permission and assaulting him in a Desrosiers-owned bar… I do not know that you could have done anything more stupid. Let us try this again. Why are you after Hudson?"

"Because it's safe!" One of the wolves burst out. "His mother is dead; she died three days ago. He can come back home!"

Johnnie's expression did not change, but he only barely managed to hold back his surprise. He had not expected to hear that. "Safe to return," he said slowly. "Then why are you hunting him down like an animal? Why, if you want Hudson back, did you attack Peyton?"

"What does that bastard have to do with Hudson?" the other wolf snarled. "He can fucking rot. We found him by chance trying to find Hudson."

"Hudson moved here because of Peyton," Johnnie told them. "They've been in love with each other for years. If you were hoping to coax back your runaway, then I am afraid that you have ruined whatever chance you had."

The wolves paled, and then seemed to wilt, all of the fight going out of them.

"Did Hudson kill his mother?" Johnnie asked.

"Yes," the first wolf said dully.

"That is grounds for a death order," Johnnie said. "So why are you not trying to kill him?"

Guilt and shame filled their faces, but the only reply they offered was, "Pack business."

Johnnie struck their legs with his cane, and then drew the blade and placed it beneath the first wolf's jaw. "You made it Desrosiers business the very moment you slunk into our territory and hurt my friend. Tell me, or suffer for it."

"We are not allowed to speak of it without permission," the second wolf said. "The only one now who can give that permission is Alpha Hudson. Your
friend
killed our remaining Candidate."

"Take them away, lock them up," Johnnie said, sheathing his sword and turning away.

Grim nodded and snatched up both wolves by their shirts, then vanished.

The glimmer of gold caught Johnnie's eye, and he strode over to the bed and snatched up the object. A signet ring with the eye crest of Pack Blue. Sitting down on the bed, Johnnie pulled out the necklace he still carried and studied both objects. Thinking of them and the watch, he murmured, "In the night, when everyone slept, she rose and took from her jewel case a gold broach, a gold necklace, and a golden ring. The three dresses of the sun, moon, and stars she folded into so small a parcel that they were placed in a walnut-shell."

He looked up as Grim reappeared. "You had best take me home. You will find Hudson faster without me."

"What in the hell is going on here? Wolves don't forgive murder—look at what they did to Peyton."

Johnnie tucked the jewelry away and stood. "I do not have enough information to say … "

"But?" Grim asked with a smile, reaching to brush Johnnie's cheek with the back of his hand.

Leaning into the touch for a moment, Johnnie then said, "But Peyton said the woman was psychotically obsessed with her son. That probably got worse when her mate died. The pack wants him back, but those two were ashamed to admit what drove him off in the first place."

"So she probably abused him," Grim said.

Johnnie quoted, "I will marry my daughter; she is the image of my dead wife, and no other bride can be found to enable me to keep my promise to her."

"That…" Grim looked ill. "Do you really think she would do something
that
terrible?"

"I believe it is a plausible theory," Johnnie replied. "Take me home; then find him."

Grim tugged him close, kissed him deeply, and they vanished. They reappeared just outside the Bremen, and Johnnie kissed Grim one last time before Grim vanished again.

Johnnie walked into the Bremen and hung his things up on the hooks by the door. Ontoniel, Rostiya, and Peyton sat at a table, nursing scotch, vodka, and beer respectively.  "John," Ontoniel greeted. "How did your search go? Where is Grim?"

Reaching the table, Johnnie set out the two pieces of jewelry, and then pulled up a chair and sat down. "They found him, and he lost his necklace in the tussle. Free of the spell, he is traceable. Grim brought me here and went to find him. They should be here within the hour, I should think. How are you?" he asked Peyton.

"I'll live," Peyton said. "So—you've really found Hudson?"

Johnnie nodded. "Grim will find him. He's been here in the city for months. I do not doubt he's spent every day of it watching you."

Peyton frowned and opened his mouth, but then closed it again and said nothing.

"I think that after he attacked his mother, he fled here to you, but then was too scared to actually approach you," Johnnie continued.

"I killed his father and two candidates," Peyton said. "There is a death order on my head. He shouldn't come anywhere near me."

Johnnie shook his head. "I would hazard to say he was scared that he would draw attention to you and put you in greater danger—a fear which has proven warranted."

Peyton growled low. "Harper was no real threat to me. He's become a dirtier fighter, but not a better one. I may just pour beers and sling suds now, but that doesn't mean my edge is gone. Once a roughskin, always a roughskin. He should have remembered that."

"Roughskin?" Johnnie repeated, not familiar with that term and intrigued. "Is that something to do with the way werewolves were once called wolfskins?"

Peyton shrugged, "Could be, I guess. Never thought about it. A roughskin is just what they call wolves that get pitted a lot. We're all 'rough around the edges and our human skins barely fit'. We're also at the bottom of the pack order. The Alpha I killed used to pit us all the time; it made him most of his fucking fortune."

"Roughskins," Johnnie repeated. "How does that relate to Ruff?"