Beta (6 page)

“The OPA can probably have it brought down from any viral video site where you post it,” Deirdre said.

“There are ways around that.” Stark surveyed the courtyard with obvious disapproval. “You’ve been out here a lot lately.”

“I like the sunshine.”

“You’re grieving.”

Deirdre shrugged. She wasn’t going to deny it. She could pretend that she was on Stark’s side, but she couldn’t pretend that she was happy about how things had fallen out with Gage.

Had Stark noticed the fang in her ear yet? Did he even remember pulling it out of Gage’s head?

It was a silent, dangerous rebellion, but one she couldn’t resist.

“You can’t display this kind of weakness in front of the pack,” Stark said. “I chose you to be my Beta. Your behavior reflects on me. You will act as strong as I know you can be, and you will do it all the time.”

A headache was growing between Deirdre’s temples. “Don’t you ever get tired of putting on a public face? Pretending you’re the tough guy?”

“I don’t pretend,” he said. “I’ve tolerated your insolence in these past weeks because of the price you’ve paid for loyalty, but shallow displays of submission don’t counteract your constant defiance. I didn’t correct your behavior today. I will the next time you cause a problem.”

She lifted her hands in a show of surrender. “Don’t hold back on my account. I know how much you love kicking my butt. I’m like your little Deirdre stress ball.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “Sorry. Your little
Tombs
stress ball. I almost forgot that we’re still not on a first-name basis.”

Stark’s shoulders were tense. “You will get over what happened to Gage at some point. It won’t take long. You’re strong.”

If this was supposed to be a touching moment, talking about the boyfriend that Stark had forced Deirdre to kill, it was a pretty screwed-up idea of a heart-to-heart.

“You can have the day off tomorrow,” he said. “Be back at the asylum by sundown.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said. Niamh will be editing the video at her store. You can leave with her. I don’t think you’ve gotten to enjoy the tourist experience in New York City.” His upper lip curled. “Maybe you can see the Statue of Liberty. I don’t care. Take a day and come back ready to work.”

He walked away. Deirdre called after him. “Aren’t you worried I won’t come back after all this bullshit?”

“No,” Stark said.

And damn him if he wasn’t right.

“What do you think about this color?” Niamh asked, holding out a tube of matte lipstick.

Deirdre’s eyebrows lifted. “Fire engine red? On who, you or me?”

“You, of course. You’ve got warm undertones that are perfect for this kind of lipstick. I’d look like a prostitute in the bad way.”

“I’m not going to have a chance to wear red lipstick,” Deirdre said. “I mean, look at us. It’s our first day out and we’re in a CVS. Clubbing isn’t in our future.”

After her weeks cooped up in the asylum, only going outside to risk her life with Stark, getting to walk through the streets of New York City without an agenda felt better than clubbing. It was more like going on vacation.

Niamh dropped the lipstick into her basket. “It’s on sale. We’ll get it. We can do makeovers and pretend we’re somewhere fun. Colette would enjoy that.”

Colette might, but Deirdre doubted that Stark would be amused if his Beta walked around the asylum with a full face. It wouldn’t be strong enough for him, that display of feminine luxury.

There would be no fun sleepovers in their future. No sleepovers, no clubbing, no vacations.

Nothing but propaganda videos and raids on government facilities.

Deirdre let Niamh lead the way through the drugstore, keeping an eye on the street outside the big windows. Morning traffic was jammed from stoplight to stoplight, crawling along mere inches at a time.

There was a black SUV in the far lane. It was halfway hidden behind a delivery truck, so Deirdre couldn’t tell if it had the OPA logo on the side. It looked like the same make and model that the agency used. But even if it was the OPA, there was no reason to fear. It wasn’t like they knew that Niamh and Deirdre were out shopping.

Niamh caught her stare. She grabbed another tube of lipstick. “Be cool, Dee. We’re just two girls having a day out.” But her mood was cooled by the sight of that unidentified black SUV. She hustled toward the cashier. “It’s probably about time for me to open No Capes, though. Have to catch up on some paperwork and dig into Adobe Premiere.”

The stoplight turned green. The cars moved on, and Deirdre never got to see if the SUV had government license plates or not.

Once Niamh bought everything, she headed for the door.

“I thought I’d pick up some standard ammunition for my Ruger while we’re out,” Deirdre said. “Coming?”

Niamh glanced at her watch. “The boss wants that video out today and I’ve got a few hours of editing ahead of me. But if you don’t want to be alone—”

“I’m fine,” Deirdre said. “Really.”

Her friend didn’t look convinced. She knew better than anyone else when Deirdre was brooding. Niamh hadn’t cared for Gage—not the way that Deirdre had—but she knew how much it hurt her to take him down.

The urge to obey Stark was stronger than her urge to baby Deirdre.

“Don’t take long,” Niamh said.

“I won’t.”

Niamh headed off to No Capes, leaving Deirdre alone on the sidewalk.

Deirdre didn’t head down to the gun store, though.

She turned around and went back into CVS.

Disposable cell phones were on sale behind the counter. She pointed at the cheapest of them. “I’ll take that and twenty minutes,” Deirdre said. Twenty minutes was nothing—only enough for a single phone call—but she didn’t think she could afford more.

“How are you paying? Cash? Credit?” asked the clerk, unlocking the case.

Deirdre wiggled her thumb. “Credit.”

The clerk pushed the fingerprint reader toward her. Deirdre glanced over her shoulder at the street before pressing her thumb to the pad.

She wasn’t sure she’d still have any money left on her benefits card, since she hadn’t checked in with the office since leaving Montreal. But it scanned, considered her thumbprint, and took the payment.

The clerk handed the phone to her. Deirdre headed across the street to the skate park before activating it.

She had taken care to memorize Rylie’s phone number instead of writing it down. Stark had found the page she’d stolen from him in her bedroom, so obviously he was doing searches whenever he felt like it. Deirdre couldn’t have anything physical that might betray her loyalties.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek as the phone rang.

Finally, it connected.

“Deirdre?” Rylie sounded weirdly hopeful, considering their last contact had been when Deirdre told her that Gage was dead.

“Yeah, it’s me. Just checking in.” Deirdre scanned the surrounding crowd. All unfamiliar faces, mostly teenagers, and few shifters.

“What happened last night?”

“Stark released someone from solitary confinement. A member of his pack.”

“So it wasn’t meant to make a statement this time?” Rylie asked.

Deirdre gave a dry laugh. “He’s always making a statement. But that wasn’t the sole reason, no. He was rescuing someone named Vidya. Do you know who she is?”

“I can look her up.”

It seemed unfair that Rylie didn’t recognize Vidya’s name. The woman was dangerous enough that she had been locked into a closet, dwelling in her own filth, yet not important enough to be a blip on the Alpha’s radar.

“What’s up with the news channels?” Deirdre asked.

“You mean the fact you’re not on them? That’s us,” Rylie said.

Hearing it confirmed didn’t make Deirdre feel any better. She shut her eyes, leaning back on the park bench. “You shouldn’t have that power.”

Rylie sounded distracted. “We can’t have Stark causing pandemonium by unleashing convicts and bragging about it on the news. We’ve got standing takedown notices with all the usual social media sites to keep his videos from getting out, and—”

“A lot of those convicts were non-violent drug offenders. Did you know that? People who were arrested for possession of lethe. Or people who stole from the gas station down the street three times and ended up getting put away for life.”

The silence from the other side of the line wasn’t exactly inspirational.

Deirdre pushed on.

“I don’t think it’s fair to destroy lives for petty crimes,” she said. She wished she could have seen Rylie’s expression. “Do you think that’s fair?”

“It’s not my law,” Rylie said softly.

“No, it’s the law of your best friends at the Office of Preternatural Affairs.”

“Secretary Friederling has reasons for setting things up the way he did. The statistics surrounding violent offenses performed by preternatural drug users—”

“But that’s not what got them put away,” Deirdre said. “A lot of it’s possession, not assault or whatever.”

“I’m sorry. I know the glacial pace of legislation must be incredibly frustrating, but there’s nothing we can do at the moment that we aren’t already working on.” Rylie’s tone became gently cajoling. “That’s also not exactly an emergency.”

Deirdre shut her eyes, took deep breaths, counted to ten.

She was only supposed to call the werewolf Alpha when something urgent was happening, not because she was angry about the law. Deirdre was always angry about the law. Nothing urgent there.

“Brianna,” Deirdre said. “Did you get me a time?”

“Yes. You can meet her today, actually. She’s in town. Do you have a pen?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Sure.” She didn’t actually plan on writing the address down. She’d have to memorize it.

Rylie read off an address, and then said, “I’ll tell her that you’re coming at twelve thirty. Should give you guys plenty of time to talk before Brianna heads out of town for the night.”

Deirdre almost thanked her, but she sealed her lips against it.

She had given up so much for Rylie. Deirdre was the one who should be on the receiving end of the gratitude.

“Do you know what Stark’s doing with the convicts?” Rylie asked. “He took a lot more people than this Vidya.”

“For now? Mostly he’s letting them stink up our hideout. I don’t know what happens next. I’d guess that they’re an army, but I’m just guessing. He’s not telling me anything.”

“If he does attempt to use them as an army, I have new enchantments and new guards,” Rylie said. “I’ll be prepared for him next time.”

“Safe in your ivory tower,” Deirdre said. “Unlike me. Unlike Gage.”

“God, Deirdre,” Rylie said. Her heartbreak poured out in those two words, and Deirdre immediately felt guilty for saying it.

“Sorry,” she muttered. The phone call needed to end. They weren’t going to be able to talk about anything constructive at that point, not once Gage’s name came up. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Deirdre hung up.

She pulled the SIM card out of the phone and broke it before tossing everything into the trash.

When Deirdre returned to No Capes, it looked even more dismal than usual. Niamh had been spending more time at the asylum and less at her comic book store/apartment, and it showed. The front window was so dirty from passing cars spraying mud on it that no light could enter. The sign on the door was permanently turned to “closed.” The air smelled musty, like nothing lived there except a lot of old comic books.

Niamh was fixated on her video editing program when Deirdre entered, bell over the door jingling.

“Lock it behind you, Dee,” she said without looking up.

Deirdre did. The deadbolt settled into place with a heavy
click
. “Isn’t your basement supposed to be accessible to Stark’s people and the sidhe at all times?”

“Usually,” Niamh said, “but they can knock. Pull up a chair. I want you to watch what I’ve got so far.”

Deirdre couldn’t “pull up a chair.” There was no room between Niamh’s shelves for chairs. She settled onto one end of the busted green couch by the cash register.

Niamh turned her laptop around so Deirdre could see it and then hit play.

The green screen behind Stark had been replaced with an American flag. Not the new one with the crescent moon, but the old one with fifty stars and thirteen stripes.

Colette had done a good job on Stark’s makeup. She’d emphasized his features and gotten rid of the shine. She might have even managed to do it without getting her nose broken by Stark.

“Your Alpha continues to deceive you,” he said. “Rylie Gresham pretends that she cares about all shifters.”

The video cut to a scene from one of Rylie’s recent speeches. She was shown in harsh grayscale, and the effect made her look much more menacing than she usually would.

“But she doesn’t. For the last ten years, the Office of Preternatural Affairs has been expanding its illegal prisons and detaining gaeans for minor offenses without due process.”

“
Due process
,” Niamh mimicked in a deep voice.

Deirdre shot a sideways look at her. There was no sign of injury on her face now. “You okay?”

“Just keep watching.”