Fratricide, Werewolf Wars, and the Many Lies of Andrea Paddington

  * * *

  “So what’s the move?” Will asked.

  “We wait,” Truman said. He was glad for the extra soldiers provided they could be relied upon, which was doubtful. “McGregor is examining them now; once he’s out we’ll know more.”

  They were all in the front room: Beck and one of the wolves – Rick, Truman thought – at the table, the others standing at the edges looking nervous and impatient. These weren’t soldiers, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be useful. Hell, a few years ago they’d managed to kidnap Paddington from under the Team’s noses.

  “We shouldn’t hand them over,” one of the wolves said; the youngest one.

  “We’re not here for revenge,” Truman said, not that anyone seemed to be listening to him.

  “Not them,” Paddington said, entering. “Adonis gets one. That’s the deal.”

  “Your deal,” said another wolf. “I never said I wouldn’t kill them.”

  “No one’s killing my prisoners!” Truman said. “Not even if Adonis doesn’t do what he’s told. We’re here to stop the prophecy and get the bastard back to Archi. In that order. Period.”

  “You think you can just come tell us silly Englishmen what to do?”

  Dammit. Sometimes the prank that had forced Truman to put on an American accent was a pain in the arse. Or the ass.

  “Yeah, he can,” said a new voice: Mitchell, returned from watching the Crypt’s entrance. “He’s in charge. You obey. You can do that, right?”

  The big werewolf bristled ready for a fight. That would be an interesting – and short – excursion in pain for the Archian.

  “Mitchell,” Truman said, “try not to break his arm if he hits you.”

  “Sir,” Mitchell said.

  “You think you’re so good, don’t you?” The werewolf stepped closer. “Well, who cleaned up all the bodies left behind last time? Tell him, Dom!”

  “Um… it was us,” Dom said. He really looked like he’d rather not be there, but then he always had that look about him.

  “It was us,” said the big wolf. “We kept the vampires busy at the Tree while you took your time getting ther—”

  “This isn’t helping!” Paddington yelled. “We need a single leader.”

  “Right,” said one of the werewolves. “But why should that be the American?”

  Oh great, a leadership challenge. That was all they needed. Truman was stretched thin just guarding his two prisoners: Themis was cuffed and tied up but not actually guarded and McGregor was still examining Ianthe. He couldn’t guard against the wolves as well.

  And… there was something about Paddington. The set of his jaw, the tensed arms thrust into coat pockets, the roaming eyes. Something that made Truman worry about Beck’s safety. He’d made the obvious connection and asked McGregor to test whether Beck was Paddington’s brother. How McGregor had obtained the necessary DNA sample without Paddington becoming suspicious Truman didn’t know.

  It was Truman’s job to protect Beck as much as it was to stop Adonis. Which made anything Paddington said suspect.

  “There’s too many people here,” Truman said. “Wolves, I need one representative of your group. Everyone else, find part of the house that doesn’t have vampires in it and stay there.”

  “I’ll represent them,” Paddington said.

  “You’re representing the demon at this point,” Truman said.

  “I’ll speak,” Will said. Truman liked the look of Will: he was the most soldierly of them, but with a kindness in his face that meant he wasn’t a mindless thug. “Everyone else, wait with Lisa in the sitting room.”

  The wolves filed out, leaving just Truman, Mitchell, Paddington, Beck, and Will.

  “First, Mitchell: what happened at the club?”

  “I saw one in the street, followed her. I swear I was keeping an eye on the door, but… apparently not.” He seemed angry with himself, which was about as close to sorry as Truman suspected he’d get. And Mitchell wouldn’t make any more mistakes.

  “Don’t let it happen again. Now,” Truman said to all of them, “to planning. Beck, I’m assuming we can’t rely on the Estikan Police for help?”

  “No,” Beck said. “As we were leaving, my boss, Yvette, arrived. Went straight up to the head vampire and asked him if anyone was bothering him.”

  No backup. Police in the pocket of the Andrastes. Hostile locals. It was Archi all over again…

  At least there weren’t zombies this time.

  “Can I count on your wolves?” Truman asked.

  “What do you mean?” Will asked.

  “If I tell them to do something, will they do it without back-talk and arguing? If this comes to a fight, we need a chain of command. I can rely on my men and woman; I need to know I can count on yours.”

  “You can, but we’re not soldiers. Wolves are a whole different strategy and we know it better than you.”

  “Agreed,” Truman said. “You’ll be my point of contact with the wolves then.”

  “What about me?” Paddington asked. “I’m sort of the alpha of the pack.”

  “Didn’t you say that was mostly a breeding privilege, James?” Will said. “So the breeding wolves and their cubs get first pick of food and stay healthy. Doesn’t really apply for werewolves. Especially since there aren’t any offspring.”

  “Don’t worry,” Truman told Paddington, “I’ve got another job for you. You’ve set yourself up as our negotiator, which is fine by me so long as I get some say on the terms this time. Deal?”

  “What do I do?” Beck asked.

  What could he do that would keep him out of harm’s – and Paddington’s – way? Something easy. Boring. Unnecessary…