Patricia Briggs - Hunting Ground

She did know something about her mate after all. She climbed out behind him, following him out of the plane and into the presence of strange wolves, still trying to decide if it should reassure her or worry her.

“Glad you made it in, sir,” said the one who was in charge. It still freaked her out sometimes how she could tell who was in charge by the subtle cues of body motion and position. Real people-normal humans-didn’t need to know who was first and who was last.

“We were following you on our radar, and Jim here was worried you might have had some trouble because your speed seemed a little erratic.”

Charles gave them a neutral face, and Anna wondered what his aerobatics had looked like on radar.

“No trouble,” he said.

The other wolf cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. “Good. I’m Ian Garner of the Emerald City Pack, and I’m to help you in any way that I can.”

As Charles and the other wolves unloaded the luggage and discussed how the plane was to be cared for and stored, Anna stood a little apart. She wasn’t as nervous with the strangers as she expected to be-and it took her a minute to pinpoint why.

Ian was middle of the pack and leader here. So this group was not the Alpha’s top tier of wolves, nowhere near the most dominant; they were wolves who wouldn’t spark a dominant male’s instinct to put them in their places. Angus Hopper, the Emerald City Pack Alpha, was a smart man. Not that he had to worry about Charles’s control, but playing it safe was always a smart move.

Angus wouldn’t have done it because strange dominant males still scared Anna, but a part of her was grateful nonetheless.

There would be enough dominant males to drown in later, when the meetings took place. The wolves coming from Europe each ruled their own territories; some of them had been in power for centuries. No one would hurt her, not while she was with Charles. She knew it, but her fear of male wolves had taken a few years to beat into her and would take more than a month or two to free herself from.

“They’ll take care of the airplane,” said Ian. He picked up the nearest piece of luggage and, with a dropped shoulder and a deferential swing of his head instead of words, invited them to follow him up a stone pathway through the trees. Charles took his own suitcase and waited for Anna to precede him.

Once he had them moving, the Emerald City wolf started talking in a rapid all-business voice that might have masked his anxiety from someone who was purely human. Charles did that to people, even in his own pack, and she didn’t think even his father knew how much it bothered him.

“Angus is at work,” the wolf said. “He says you’re to have free access to the house.” Anna remembered getting a glimpse of a house as they landed, but from the ground, it was well hidden by the trees. That must be where they were headed toward. “You’re welcome to anything any of us have, but the pack itself has a newish Land Cruiser and a Corolla that has seen better days. Angus says you can use his BMW if you’d rather.”

“We’ll take the Corolla,” Charles told him. “And we’re staying in a hotel downtown. This is too far for an easy commute to the meeting place.”

“He thought you would feel that way. Angus invites you to stay with him at his condo in the city.”

“Not necessary,” said Charles. Anna wasn’t sure he noticed the other man’s mouth flatten. More probably he just didn’t care.

The Emerald City Pack was hosting the meeting, and for Charles to refuse housing might look like he was not acknowledging them as allies. Charles preferred to be independent-separate from the people he might be called upon to kill. Charles was his father’s assassin and justice dealer, and that grim responsibility affected everything he did. He didn’t go out of his way to make friends among the werewolves, not even in his own pack. He would feel more comfortable on his own.

That didn’t mean that Anna couldn’t smooth things over.

“We appreciate the offer,” Anna told Ian. “But we’re newly mated and…” It didn’t require any effort on her part to blush as her voice trailed off. And whatever offense he’d felt was overshadowed by interest.

“So it’s true?” Ian glanced at Charles, then quickly away. “I had heard that.”

“Shocking, I know,” murmured Charles.

The other wolf stiffened and gave Charles a worried look, too wary of Charles to hear the humor.

“He’s a terrible tease,” she told Ian, trying to help.

The Emerald City wolf’s face loosened in utter disbelief.

Charles saw it and grinned at her. It was too bad Ian didn’t see her mate’s expression, but Charles’s usual-in-public granite facade was back before the other wolf glanced his way.

“Right,” Ian said. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Well… Angus asked me to tell you that the only people we’re waiting for are the Russians and the French. He thought you might also be interested to know that the British Alpha came alone with his mate. We’ll know when the Russians get here-they’re staying in the apartment Angus’s company owns.”

“Angus’s company?” asked Anna-they’d packed in a hurry, and she hadn’t asked him much about what they’d actually be doing here.

“Angus runs a high-tech company,” Charles explained. “They put together programs to keep other companies running. We’ll be using his facilities this week-he’s given his staff an early vacation for Christmas.” He looked at Ian. “I’d wager the French wolves have arrived already. Chastel will want to check out his hunting grounds before the prey arrives.”

“They haven’t checked into the hotel they booked.”

Charles shook his head. “Tell Angus that Chastel would never stay in a hotel. Too public. He’ll have rented a house, something nice. He’s here, probably has been here for a week or two.”

Charles claimed not to be good with people, not to understand them… and maybe that was true. But he understood predators just fine.

The trees thinned, and a house emerged from the forest. Like Bran’s house, it had been built to take advantage of the natural topography, and the surrounding trees effectively hid a good deal of its bulk. Angus’s company must be pretty lucrative.

“Angus says it is the Frenchman who will cause the most trouble,” said Ian.

“Don’t underestimate the Russians,” Charles said. “But Angus is probably right. Jean is powerful, scary, and mad as a hatter. He likes killing, especially if his prey is weak and frightened-his life wouldn’t hold up to the kind of scrutiny we’re inviting by introducing ourselves to the world.”

“Angus says that Jean Chastel will carry the vote because everyone else is scared of him.”

Charles smiled wolfishly, his eyes cold and clear. “This is not a democracy: there is no vote. Not on this. The Europeans have no say in whether or not we tell the world about ourselves. I’m here to listen to their concerns and decide what we can do to help them mitigate the impact of becoming public.”

“That doesn’t sound like what I’ve picked up from the European delegations who’ve arrived.” Ian was careful not to sound as if he were disagreeing with Charles.

“What about the Asian werewolves?” Anna asked. “Or African and Australian? And South American?”

“They don’t matter.” Ian dismissed her question.

“They matter,” said Charles softly. “They have been dealt with differently.”

The sharp scent of fear coiled around Anna’s nose; there had been a threat in Charles’s voice when he thought the other wolf had overstepped himself-and Ian had clearly caught it. She gave Charles a frown. “Stop terrorizing him. These are things I ought to have known. Tell me about the non-European werewolves.”