Heir To The Pack (The Cursed Pack Book 1) (24 page)

Annie put on a white robe
she found on the back of the bathroom door, threw her red dress regretfully in
the laundry basket, and headed for the room she’d so far shared with Jack and
Daisy to dress.

They both slept. It must
be early still. She glanced at the color of the sky outside. Well past dawn. She
put on a shirt and a denim skirt. Before she left, she leant over to kiss
Jack’s forehead.

His eyes half-opened,
sleepily. “Mama,” he said, before closing them and rolling over, sticking his
butt in the air, the way he’d always slept as a baby. He still adopted the
posture from time to time, and it pulled at Annie’s mothering heart.

She gave him a gentle pat
and left him to sleep, making her way to the kitchen to make coffee. The house
lay quiet. Apparently she was the only one up at this hour.

As she spooned coffee into
the machine, hairs stood up on the back of her neck, and she realized her
assumption was false. The suite should still be guarded. She wasn’t going to freak
out yet, despite the adrenaline her glands helpfully pumped through her body. Gathering
herself, she said, “I know you’re there.”

A deep chuckle told her it
was Gaelan. “I can’t believe you heard me. Usually Dash is the only one who
knows when I’m sneaking up on him, and I can get him about half the time. We’ve
been playing the game for years.”

She turned and smiled. “I
guess that’ll teach you to underestimate me. Want some coffee?”

Gaelan met her gaze, and
began to say something, but stopped. He came closer, stepping from one side of
her to the other.

“What?” His behavior was
creeping her out.

“Something is different
about you this morning. I’m trying to figure out what it is.” He sniffed the
air. “You smell different.”

“Er, thanks. I think.” She
felt her face heat up. A timely reminder that werewolf society was different
from mainstream America. She’d had a long, soapy shower, so surely he couldn’t
still smell sex on her.

He considered, still
watching her closely. “You smell like Dash.”

She rolled her eyes to
cover her embarrassment.

“No, I don’t mean I can
smell him on you. I mean you smell like Dash.” Gaelan sniffed again. “Like he
was standing here in front of me. Weird.” He circled her, slowly. “What did you
do?”

“Nothing.” She folded her
arms. She did not intend to discuss any of the night’s events with anyone other
than Dash.

“If you say so.” He
shrugged, stepping back. “I’m sure Dash will tell me later.”

“Ugh! What is wrong with
you?” She picked up an oven mitt and threw it at him.

He caught it, waved
goodbye at her with it, and exited the room.

She continued to make
coffee, her mind only half on what she was doing. If Gaelan was right, what did
that mean, exactly? Was it a product of spending the night with Dash, or the
result of their failed attempt to bring her wolf home? Or was it the odd visit
she’d had from Dash’s wolf? None of it made sense in a rational context.

Closing her eyes, she
sighed, and rested her body against the kitchen counter.

The sound of voices
interrupted her thoughts. Gaelan spoke with the guards at the suite’s entrance,
but there was an urgency in their tones that brought her sharply to attention.

She walked to the living
area to hear more, but the sound of the door slamming ended the conversation. Gaelan
strode past her with barely a nod, headed for Dash’s bedroom. She trailed
behind, surprised that he flung the door open without even a knock.

Over Gaelan’s shoulder she
saw Dash spring to his feet, shoulders up, snarling. As he saw who it was he
shook his head. “Gods, G, you know better than to surprise me like that. What’s
up?”

Gaelan stood to attention.
“Got a message. The Mexican pack changed leadership overnight and the new Alpha
is demanding an emergency meeting of the Alphas, immediately.”

Dash shrugged into a
bathrobe. “It’s a little unexpected. I thought old Ramon was solid. Who’s the
new Alpha?”

“It’s Michael.”

Dash sucked in his breath,
and his face hardened. “I see how it’s going to be. Give me a minute. I need to
shower and dress, and I’ll be right out.”

Annie turned to leave the
room with Gaelan.

“Not you, Annie,” Dash
said quietly. “Stay with me.”

A rush of warmth shot
through her. “Of course,” she said, walking to his side. Gaelan left, and
closed the door behind him. “What is it? What does it mean?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Any
kind of emergency meeting is trouble. I expect he’s going to want to know why
we haven’t caught Rosa’s killer.” He took her hand. “Stay safe, and be careful.
I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Is that what you wanted
to tell me?” She hung back, somehow nervous after their night together. After
opening up to him, she found herself off-balance, unable to find the natural
flow of conversation.

He lifted her hand and
kissed the knuckles. “I have a thousand things to tell you, and I want to listen
to you, too. But I have to get to this meeting. Will you spend time with me,
later today?”

“If you can fit me into
your schedule.” She pulled back on her hand, caught in his larger one, trying
to reclaim it, but he held fast.

His eyes darkened. “You’ll
fit,” he said. “I’ll make time.” Tugging at her arm, he drew her closer, his
eyes on her mouth. “Come here.”

“Aren’t you in a hurry?” She
reluctantly stepped in to him. She couldn’t have said what held her back. No. She
could. No sex, remember? Her own words rung in her ears. There was a reason
she’d said it, and she had to remember what it was.

They’d had one night. One
amazing night. One night soon, they might be together again, but now she had to
think of Jack, the curse, and the witch.

He pulled her to him,
brushed her lips with his, light as falling snow. She held herself upright,
trying not to give in to him, and he drew back. “Is everything all right?”

She gave a tight nod. “It
will be. Good luck with your meeting.”

His eyebrows lowered. “Are
you trying to dismiss me?”

“No.” She forced herself
to look away from him. “Just trying to help.” He didn’t need this distraction,
either. Much as turning away from him twisted her up inside, they both needed
the space to get through their problems together. Afterwards, they might have
something.

“Go get ready,” she said.

“Okay.” He gave her a
puzzled look, and pulled her close again for a fast, hard kiss. “We’ll discuss
this later.”

Again, he kissed her and disappeared
into the bathroom, and she heard the shower come on. She shivered at the
memories of last night. How did he always manage to get the last word? Regardless,
she had work to do. Time to get Jack ready to face the day.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

Dash lengthened his stride
as they approached the meeting room. G, as always, followed close behind, and
Elaine and Marjie followed behind him.

No point in upsetting
Annie, but the change of power in the Mexican pack most likely meant there had
been a fight, and a bloody one. He hoped Ramon was okay. The former Alpha was
getting older, and Michael had taken the chance to defeat him, despite years of
good leadership.

The whole thing surprised
him. Michael had always been a submissive wolf. He'd never acted like an Alpha,
and Dash wouldn’t have thought Michael could lead a pack.

He shoved the meeting room
door open. According to etiquette, he should have waited for one of his guards
to open it for him, but he was done with Gods-damned etiquette for this week. Enough
etiquette. Enough politics. Enough bullshit.

In the huge boardroom, the
Alphas sat around the massive oak table in their usual spots, with seconds and
pack witches standing behind them. The table was empty of the casual clutter of
coffee cups and papers that usually filled such meetings.

Before, Ramon would have
been at the far end of the table. When Dash was younger and his father’s
second, Rosa would have stood behind Ramon, and she had always been accompanied
by one of a series of companions. Michael had been the last companion, and in
that role for the longest. Now he sat at the table with no second nor witch at
his back. That in itself was odd. A vote of no confidence?

The Alphas scrambled to
their feet, Dash’s abrupt entrance taking them by surprise.

“Alphas,” he said, giving
a brief nod, and sliding into his seat at the head of the table. They sat
again, in somewhat less disarray.

Once seated, he was
directly across from Michael. At his right sat Joel, Alpha of the Jersey pack
and general counsel to all the packs. Behind Joel stood Shoshanna, the pack
witch and perhaps the future Oracle. The rest of the seats were by habit rather
than rule.

Dash broke from staring at
Michael, to look at Ivan, on who sat on Dash's left. Keep your enemies close?

Ivan’s face was
expressionless, but he acknowledged Dash’s gaze with a nod, as did each of the
other Alphas he made eye contact with in turn.

Except for Michael. Michael
didn’t move a muscle. He wasn’t frozen, but very still, relaxed. His gaze
followed Dash’s every move, unreadable. Long, dark hair cascaded over his bare
shoulders.

Shirt off, huh? Showing
off one’s muscles was one of the poses of Alpha-hood. Dash wished he hadn’t
bothered to put one on himself, but he’d shrugged into the blue Western shirt,
thinking of Annie the whole time.

No point in waiting for
the world to end. He got straight to the point. “What brings us here, Michael?”

“The Mexican pack is
disappointed,” Michael intoned, his gaze directly on Dash. He seemed to be
channeling Ivan’s earlier demeanor. “We are disappointed at the local Alpha’s
inability to keep the Oracle safe. Further, we are disappointed at his
inability to find the killer and bring him or her to justice. Finally, we are
disappointed at the prospect of the local Alpha as Lycaon of the Gathered
Packs.”

Dash smiled, grimly. Well,
apparently Michael wasn’t going to beat around the bush, either. It perversely
annoyed him the way the unaccompanied man spoke with the royal ‘we’. He planned
on ignoring it, deliberately. “What do you propose, Michael?”

A flicker of annoyance
crossed Michael’s features. “We propose an alternate Lycaon.”

Irritation raised Dash’s
hackles. He was not surprised. He’d known Michael was going to cause trouble. But
he waited, resisting hard the urge to ask Michael who he proposed as Lycaon. The
other Alphas might see it as insecurity. The answer was obvious, anyhow.

“I plan on contesting the
leadership.” Michael waited for his words to ripple through the room, but
Dash’s lack of reaction had undermined him, and there was not much of a stir.

Dash nodded. “That is your
right. Tonight we will undergo the traditional ceremonies. Joel?” The lawyer
was in charge of all such things.

“I’ll make the
arrangements.” Joel shot his cuffs, and folded his hands on the table. Dash
wondered idly why he insisted on wearing fancy suits out here in the middle of
Montana, but it did add gravitas.

“You both understand how
this works?”

“In theory,” Dash said. Michael
said nothing, but nodded.

“If each contender has the
support of at least two packs by the time of the ceremony tonight, the
contenders will duel.”

Ah. No, he’d missed that
part. Of course, he hadn’t been born the last time the leadership had changed,
so it was pretty understandable. What had he been thinking? This wasn’t a
democracy by any standards.

“And if they don’t have
the support of two packs?”

Joel shrugged. “There will
be no contest.”

Michael stared at him down
the table, eyes unblinking, every muscle in his shoulders tensed as if he were
about to spring. Perhaps he’d taken the suggestion that he wouldn’t find supporters
as a personal insult.

He could be insulted. Dash
had better things to do, like find the damn killer. “Are we done here?”

Joel looked at Michael.

“Yes.”

Dash smiled, and got to
his feet. He looked around the table. “I’ll see you all this evening.”

He’d be happy to beat the
shit out of Michael. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with, with Jack’s
curse. That son of a bitch. Why now? And how the hell could he blame Dash for
not finding the killer inside twenty-four hours?

Dash understood the guy
was grieving, but that was no excuse for being an asshole. He’d hand him his
head on a platter. Duels were until submission. Or death, technically. But he’d
never seen one go that far.

As he walked down the
hallway, away from the conference room, a small hand landed on his forearm. He
paused, glancing sideways at his aunt Elaine.

“What’s up?” he said.

“Dash, let’s go for a
walk, and have a chat.”

He fought back the
irritation. He wanted nothing more than to get back to Annie and Jack. Later,
he’d talk strategy, but the desire to see his family was overwhelming, and
everything seemed to be conspiring to keep him from it.

“Fine,” he said. “Where
did you have in mind? Not concerned about being overheard?”

“We’ll go to the library,”
Elaine said, smoothing her hair down behind the flower she kept tucked behind
her ear. “That should be quiet at this time of day.”

“Gaelan will keep watch so
we’re not interrupted,” added Marjie.

Dash led the way at a fast
clip. The sooner they got to the library, the sooner he could get this done.

The library wouldn’t have
been his choice of location for a discussion. Not that he didn’t like to read. But
this had been his father’s favorite place to have “talks” with him. Entering
the room made every muscle in his scalp tighten, starting a headache he knew
would continue throughout the day. The weight of the books that lined the walls
to the ceiling seemed to press in upon him. He did not look at his father’s
chair, or the stool where he’d spent many hours enduring lectures and
detentions.

He moved across the room
to stand by the window and stared out at the woods, the lush evergreens calming
his mind. When he heard G close the door, he said, “So what have I done now?”

“He has support,” Marjie said.

“The Russians?” Dash
growled.

“Not as far as we know.”

He turned to face his
aunts, who had settled themselves at each end of the rich brown Chesterfield in
the center of the room. Between them, a pile of books teetered, and he wondered
who’d dared to leave such a mess.

“Who?”

“The East Canadians.”

He screwed up his face,
thrust out his hands in disgust. “Yesterday they pledged their support to me. They’ve
always been loyal.”

Elaine smiled,
guilelessly. “That was when they thought you were the only candidate. It would
be imprudent to do anything else.”

Dash paced the room,
lifting a book here, glancing out another window at the graveled courtyard there.
The inescapable destination where he would duel Michael, tonight.

“Why is he doing this? I
can’t believe he really blames me for the situation. I have enough on my plate
without this bullshit.” He turned to face his aunts, opening his arms. “I don’t
have time for this.”

“You’ll have to make time,”
Marjie answered. “It’s been a long time coming. Michael never wanted to be the
Oracle’s companion, but she chose him, likely to keep him from taking on Ramon.
That one has always wanted more power than he had.”

“Really?” He cast his mind
back, trying to remember anything of Michael. “He always seemed so damn
servile. I don’t plan on having any trouble with him. He might have beaten
Ramon, but I’m a lot younger.”

“Don’t underestimate
Michael,” Elaine said. “He’s younger than you, too, and bigger.” She re-crossed
her legs, primly, and pressed her lips together. “Don’t let your ego lose you
the fight.”

“He’s a pussycat,” growled
Gaelan, from the door. “Probably never been in a fight in his life before Ramon.”

“All the more reason for
him to fight dirty,” Marjie added.

“If you’re all quite done
telling me how likely I am to lose, I want to get back to my family.” Dash
headed for the door.

Elaine cleared her throat.
“About that,” she said.

He paused, a twisting
sensation in his gut giving him the premonition of bad news. “What?”

“Dash, time is running out
for the boy.”

He turned back, feeling
the blood drain from his head. Sharp nausea took his breath. “What do you mean,
exactly?”

Marjie chimed in, her
voice hoarse. “His life force is weakening.”

He held up a hand, as if
he could push the information away. “I don’t know what you mean. He seems fine.
He’s been running around, playing, all the usual stuff. Annie says he’s eating
better since he’s been here.” Still, the boy did have that funny turn only yesterday.
Dash hadn’t dug too deeply because Jack had recovered just fine.

“Dash,” Marjie said, “I
can see his aura. The pack magic supports him physically, but his spirit
weakens by the day.”

He eased himself down on
the coffee table, folded his hands between his knees to stop himself from
throwing something. “How long?”

She shook her head. “It’s
impossible to say. But his spirit is worse—significantly worse—since
his arrival. And I believe it’s accelerating. At this rate, I don’t know.”

He pressed his feet into
the rug, hard, to stop himself from shaking. “Months?”

She gave him a sad half-smile,
her mouth drooping. “Days to weeks.”

He dropped his head into
his hands. Throwing things, swearing, going for a run in the woods, none of
these things could change the fact that his son was dying.

The room fell quiet. He
forced himself to breathe. “Right,” he said. “Right.” And breathe.

Abruptly he stood, aware
of all their eyes fixed upon him.

“I’d better get on with
finding the damn witch, hadn’t I?”

“You should spend some
time with Jack,” Elaine said. She didn’t say,
in case he doesn’t make it
, but he heard the words in her mind as
clearly as if she had.

“Anything else?”

Elaine shook her head,
while Marjie watched him.

He headed for the door,
his legs somehow managing to put one foot in front of the other despite his
mind racing around in circles. Gaelan met his gaze and stepped aside, opening
the door for him. The big man said nothing.

Dash walked back to his
suite, aware that Gaelan shadowed him, as he ever had. The sound of his boots
on the wooden floor sounded like a ticking clock, counting down Jack’s breaths
until the last.

This was the worst day of
his life.

When they reached the door,
he stopped, looked to the ceiling, and took a deep breath.

Gale laid a hand on his
shoulder. “We’ll find that bitch,” he said. “And we’ll kill her. Together. Or
with Annie.”

“Right,” said Dash again. It
wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the support. He had to keep a lid on his
emotions, because once he let them out he didn’t think he’d be able to
function, and he had to stay on top of his game. “Thanks.”

He knocked and the guards
opened the door. Through into the atrium he passed, and from there into the
living room. Daisy sat on the couch reading a magazine. Jack and Annie were not
in evidence.

She looked up at him, her
blue eyes clear behind her glasses. “Good morning,” she said. “I guess you wore
my daughter out.”

He gaped at her, unable to
parse her words.