Werewolf Sings the Blues (20 page)

Will's barely been recruited when there's a light knock on the door. The twins' eyes flutter. Crap. A second later, a sweaty Frank steps in. Double crap. He notices the children he just woke and shoots me a sorry smile.

“Hi. Sorry. I didn't …”

“Hi, Grandpa,” Dustin says through his yawn.

“Hi, munchkins,” he replies. “Have a nice nap?”

“Grandpa, Mason pushed me into the mud,” Nicole tattles.

“That wasn't nice of him,” Frank says.

“Aunt Vivian said it's because he likes me, but I think he's just mean and icky.”

“Actually, I think your aunt's right on this one,” Frank says with a smile my way. I don't reciprocate.

“I don't care. He's still icky.”

Frank chuckles. “Well, you guys must be hungry. They're serving dinner downstairs. Better go before they run out of food.”

“Okay,” Dustin says, scooting off the bed. Nicole follows suit, running out of the room.

It's harder for me to move as inactivity has made my body sore again. I wince a little, especially when I put pressure on my broken finger. Frank takes a few steps toward me to help. “I got it,” I say.

“You should ask Deandra for more pills if you're still in pain,” Frank suggests.

I manage to get to my feet. “Will do. Thanks.”

“I hope the twins weren't too much trouble. I've instructed everyone to give you some space, but—”

“I'm not a wilting flower who gets knocked down at the first breeze, Frank.”

“So I've heard,” he says with a quick, uncomfortable smile. “Still.
We can be an overwhelming group to take in all at once. If it gets to be too much, let me know. I'll talk to them. No one will blame you if you need to … separate yourself from us. We'd all understand.
”

As I stare at him for a few seconds smiling at me with tenderness, the urge to kick him in the balls grows stronger and stronger. I've manipulated enough people through the years to spot a con a mile away. The fact he's using the guise of pretending to give a shit about me just makes it that much more sickening. I'm surprised he doesn't just tie me to the bed and lock the door to keep me from his precious Jason. I force a smile on my face. Never let them know you know. Learned that early too.

“I appreciate that, thank you. I'll keep it in mind.”

“Good. I just, I want you as comfortable as possible.”

“Of course you do.” I grin again. “Well, I'm starving. I'm gonna go grab a plate.”

“Okay. I need to shower and change. Be down in about ten minutes.”

“I'll let them know.” I walk past my father, smile dropping the second my back's to him. Asshole.

It's a freaking zoo in the dining room. I'm surprised there isn't more snapping and growling from the pack. The entire table is covered with food. Trays of smoking steaks, pork chops, and chicken piled high with men carrying in more meat. Women emerge from the swinging kitchen door with containers of cole slaw, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, corn and chips. Children, including Nicole and Dustin, are served by Claire and Devin, who steals glances at her while dropping slaw on the paper plates. Dear God there are a lot of them. More than forty men, women, and children at least, all laughing, joking, helping one another. Men kiss their wive's cheeks as they pass with food. Mothers lift their children to fill their plates. Friends whisper into each other's ears, garnering laughter. I've never seen anything like this before.
You don't belong here
…

“We have to stop meeting like this,” a familiar man's voice says behind me. I spin around to find Adam wiping sweat off his face with a bandana.

“Like what?”

“You, looking lost. Me, rescuing you. I'll begin to think the rumors about you are untrue.”

“What rumors?”

“That you're a butt-kicking babe who can carry a tune while digging bullets out of werewolves. You do have a reputation to protect, you know.” His smile infects me. I sprout one too. “Come on, we don't bite.” He nods his head for me to follow him. “Except on the full moon, of course.”

I shadow my new best friend into the chaos. The people smile
and nod as I walk by, including Linda, who sets down a salad bowl.
Like Adam I grab a paper plate and plastic cutlery. When we join the line, a short woman in her late sixties with silver hair in a bun makes a B-line toward us.

“There you are! I haven't seen you all day,” she says to Adam.

“You saw me get home this morning, Mom,” he says, “Sorry.” He kisses the top of her head. “Frank put me right to work.”

“I haven't seen Jason either,” she says.

“He's fine,” I answer. “I spoke to him earlier.”

“Vivian, my mother Maureen. Mom, Viv,” Adam says.

I shake her hand. “Nice to meet you. Jason told me great things about you.”

“He's a sweet boy. Don't let anyone else, including him, tell you otherwise,” Maureen says.

“I'm a believer, ma'am.”

“Good. Now, excuse me. I need to borrow my son,” she says, wrapping her arm through his.

“But—”

“You'll be fine,” Adam says before being dragged off.

Great. I just keep my eyes down as I fill my plate with enough carbs to create a colony of cellulite. Even the salad is slathered with Caesar dressing. Most of the other women I notice are dainty eaters as well. Only the men have steaks stacked three high. And, with the exception of Nicole and two others, the smaller children running around are boys. Must be a werewolf thing, having more males than females. Makes—

“Excuse us,” a man says. I glance up to find a couple in their early twenties grinning at me. “Hi, we're Mike and Dahlia Chambers. Just wanted to tell you we're so glad you got here safely. We were praying for you and Jason.”

“Thank you,” I say for lack of something better.

“Your father's an exceptional man,” Mike continues. “I'd be dead if he hadn't found me after I was turned. We just wanted to introduce ourselves.”

“If you need anything, let us know,” Dahlia says.

“Thank you.” The couple smiles in unison and moves down the table toward the meat. Okay, that was weird. Nice but weird. I have a feeling that's going to be a theme for the rest of my stay at Hotel Werewolf. Whatever. I reach across the table for the macaroni spoon, accidently hitting my bad finger against it and wincing.

“Oh, here. Let me,” Sam, who stands beside me, says. He ladles the macaroni onto my plate with a grin.

“Thank you.”

“Do you need any help with anyth—”

“I got it, thank you.” Enough food. I bypass the horde toward the
end of the table where the drinks are. If there is any Kool-Aid being
served, I am not touching it. As I get a Sprite, Claire sidles up beside me. “Hello.”

“I just wanted to thank you for taking care of the twins. I didn't
mean to impose, it's just—”

“It's fine. You had your hands full.”

“I know, right?” she asks, eyes doubling in size. “I love them all to death, but with all the sugar and boredom they're all going nuts and driving me there in the process. And the guys are no help. They're as bad as the kids!”

“Sorry.”

She frowns. “No, I'm sorry. I'm venting. I'm really super-proud
Mr. Dahl trusts me enough to put me in charge of them. Please don't tell him I complained, okay? I know we all have to pitch in and stuff.”

“I'm sure everyone appreciates all your hard work, especially Frank.”

“Really?” she asks, beaming.

“Definitely. Told me so himself,” I lie. I do on occasion use my powers for good.

“He did? Oh, wow! Thank you!”

“Welcome. I'm gonna …” I gesture toward the door. “Enjoy dinner.”

I make it all of three steps before a huge man in every way with a trucker's cap moves in front of me. “You're Frank's daughter, right?” I nod. “Welcome home, girl.” And he walks away without another word. O-kay.

“Aren't we Miss Popularity, princess,” Tate says as he passes. I shoot him the evil eye but he chuckles. Dick.

Since Frank is still upstairs, and I don't want to give him the satisfaction of seemingly obeying him, I make my way down the hall to the back patio where I pray there are fewer people. Of course a quarter of the others had the same idea. Damn. There are more tents back here with barbeque grills still smoking. No escape. I spot a friendly face lowering himself onto the grass. I descend the stone steps and sit beside Devin. “Mind if I join you?”

“N-No.”

It becomes readily apparent why he chose this spot. Claire prances down the stairs over to a tent where a middle-aged man with thin-
ning hair and a woman with graying hair sit on lawn chairs,
enjoying their meals. She kisses her mother's head before plopping down on the grass with her back to us.

“Ah, young love,” I say to myself.

“W-What?”

“Nothing. So, did you hack Donovan's computer?” I ask, shoving food in my mouth.

“My encryption system's working on it. Should be a few more hours.”

“Any chance you can hack into the fugitive database and erase my warrant?”

“Sorry. Their firewalls are mental.”

“Too bad. I'm sure I look like shit in my mugshot.”

“Can I sit at the cool kid's table too?” Adam asks as he takes the last stone step off the patio. I pat the grass where he sits a second later. “Hey, Dev.”

“Hey.”

“Sorry about leaving you back there,” Adam says.

“I'll forgive you. One day,” I say dramatically. “No, it's fine. Everyone was extra super duper helpful and friendly. It freaked me the fuck out.”

“You're our Alpha's glamorous, only daughter who survived six hostile werewolves and several days alone with Jason Dahl. They're in awe of you, especially for that last one,” Adam explains. “I'm surprised they're not bowing. Just smile and be gracious.”

“Like a princess?” I ask. “Yeah, even as a girl I never wanted to
be one of those. I was more a Debbie Harry wannabe.” I eat a fork
ful of cole slaw. “Speaking of Jason—”

“We were?” Adam asks with a smirk.

“What'd you mean about them being in awe of me because I was alone with him?”

“Nothing. It was a joke.”

“No, tell me. I'm your princess, I order you to tell me.”

“You can't order—”

“He's terrifying,” Devin chimes in. “We're all scared of him.”

“He's not scary. He can be … intimidating,” Adam says, staring at Devin. “But that's just because most people don't bother to get to know him.”

“He doesn't exactly make it easy,” Devin mumbles. Adam shoots
him a nasty look. “What? I've known him all my life, and he's said maybe twenty words to me.”

“And I guarantee you've only said ten to him,” Adam retorts. “He's our Beta. Everyone should show him more respect.”

“We respect him. He's just … he's menacing. We all know what he does.”

“What he does, he does to keep us safe. He doesn't enjoy doing it, but he still does it. For us. And maybe if you, or anyone else made the effort, you might find out he isn't the big bad wolf everyone seems to think he is.”

“I guess,” Devin says, properly cowed. He stares down at his plate.

Adam shakes his head. I get the feeling this isn't the first time he's had this conversation. He's Jason's behind-the-scenes PR manager/cheerleader. Wish I had a friend like that. Wish Jason didn't
need
a friend like that. Me, they welcome with open arms just because I share some genes with their fearless leader. Jason's been around for almost two decades, literally risking life and limb for them, and he feels the need to take his meals alone. He'd die for any one of these people, and they probably don't even ask him over for a beer. I know he cares. He pretends not to. They probably take it at face value. Something should be done.

We eat in silence for a while, just watching the happy families and friends enjoying the evening. They act like they haven't a care in the world. Chatting, chowing, teasing their children. Safe. They feel safe. Maybe I should drink the Kool-Aid. Jump in with both feet. Try to live up to my undeserved rep. I am stuck at Casa Howl for a while. I'm already bored with TV. Sitting still was never my forte. Okay, really I just want to piss Frank off. I do owe him seven years of missed teenage rebellion. I'd get another tattoo or crash his car, but I can't leave the house so this'll have to do. Plus, when I did those last two, they weren't really as much fun as I'd anticipated. An evil plan begins percolating, bringing a smirk to my face. You showed your cards, Frank. Time for me to go all in.

The man himself saunters out, freshly showered. Everyone snaps to as if Elvis is in the building. He graces Claire's family first, saying a few words, patting her father's shoulder, then moving to the next group on his goodwill tour. It's the same with them all. A few words and they all glow. Once again the urge to scream rises. The love and respect they have for this man is downright Christ-like. The Great White Ginger Hope. Whatever keeps them going, I guess.

When it's our turn on the campaign trail, my two companions turn into glowworms as well. I give him a quick smile just to be civil. “Hey, guys,” Frank says.

“Sir,” Devin replies.

“Enjoying dinner?”

“Yes, thank you,” I say.

“You really should try Pookie's pork chops. Don't tell anyone, but they're my favorite.”

“I'm actually a vegetarian, so …”

“Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't know,” Frank says.

I shrug. “How could you?”