Kelly Meade - Black Rook

“Guns?” Bishop asked.

“I don’t know,” Father replied. “Joe couldn’t tell me anything, because he only knew what the anonymous caller told him. That two dozen are dead, and that they’re under attack. After he got the anonymous call, Joe tried calling Andrew Butler, Springwell’s Alpha, but he didn’t answer, so Joe called me. Joe’s sending a squad of enforcers up to investigate, and I agreed to do the same.”

Rook jerked in his chair. This was exactly the kind of assignment he needed to prove to his father that he could handle himself and lead others. Only going today was impossible, and it was his own fault. With the ketamine in his system making higher thought a challenge, he’d be useless in Connecticut. And when his father looked directly at him, obviously waiting for Rook to volunteer, he didn’t meet his eyes.

The silence lasted only a split second, but it was enough. Father didn’t comment. He had another crisis to deal with before he focused on his youngest son.

“Bishop, take four people with you,” their Alpha said. “I want you ready to leave in fifteen minutes. I’ll give you the contact information for Joe’s squad leader.”

“On it,” Bishop replied. “Dev?”

“I’m in,” Devlin replied.

The pair left as quickly as they came, back into the bustle of the auction that was continuing as usual without them. Father moved fast—one moment behind the desk, the next standing in front of Rook.

“What’s wrong with you?” Father asked.

“Long story.” Rook felt five years old again, confronted by his father after stumbling home a bloody mess. He’d tried to climb a tree he’d been forbidden to touch, because it was rotting, and he’d gone up anyway. When a branch gave out halfway up, he’d hit a lot of other branches on the way to the ground. Sharing that shame with his father had been excruciating at age five. As an adult, it was far more embarrassing.

“Knight?” Father said. “A summary, please?”

Knight explained everything as Brynn had explained it to him, presenting the evidence as it was needed: the cup holding the ring, the syringe box. Brynn didn’t move from her corner, but the sour tang of fear coming off her increased, as did the ragged sound of her breathing. Rook clasped the arms of his chair to keep still, when what he really wanted to do was comfort her. To tell her that he wouldn’t let his father hurt her for what she’d done, even though he had no idea what his father would do.

And why was he sitting there thinking about protecting her, when she was a Magi who’d just poisoned him with a deadly toxin engineered for loup garou? He should dislike her on principle. He blamed the ketamine.

Father surprised Rook by squatting in front of him, nostrils flaring hard as he scented him. “Rook, how do you feel right now?”

“Groggy,” he replied. “A little queasy.”

“Any aches or muscle pains?”

“No.”

“Dizziness?”

“I haven’t tried standing up in a while, so I don’t know.” Rook tilted his head up. “I believe her. Brynn. It was an accident.”

Father looked him in the eye, and Rook didn’t look away. He saw so many unnamed things in his father’s eyes, but one he did recognize was fear—and that baffled him. The Alpha was never afraid. “All right,” Father finally said. “But I’m giving that ring to Dr. Mike for testing. And you are getting a checkup once you’re able to walk without falling over.”

Rook nodded his acquiescence. Dr. Michael Abraham had been the town’s doctor since before even Father was born. He’d birthed most of the loup in Cornerstone, and he knew more about loup garou physiology than anyone Rook had ever met. If the ring’s poison caused any other side effects, Dr. Mike would figure it out.

Father stood and folded his arms over his chest. “Miss Atwood?”

“Yes, sir?” she replied.

He didn’t speak right away. Rook studied his expression, but saw only quiet contemplation—Father’s favorite face when he was making a decision.

“On second thought,” Father said, as though they’d been in the middle of a conversation, “Knight, can you go fetch Dr. Mike and have him come here?”

“Of course,” Knight replied.

“One moment.” Father snatched a piece of paper off his desk, wrote something down, then handed the paper to Knight. He didn’t fold it or hide the message, and Knight read it as he took it. Rook couldn’t see the words, though, just the way Knight’s eyebrows rose and some sort of understanding dawned. Knight left.

“You don’t have to hide in the corner, Miss Atwood. Please, come and have a seat.”

Brynn did, taking the chair next to Rook’s and perching gingerly on the edge. She kept her head down, hands clasped in her lap. Tension radiated from her, along with that fragrance of wild flowers he found so enticing.

“I’ve heard of your father,” his father said. “Archimedes Atwood?”

“Yes, sir,” she said to her lap.

“And you’re no longer of the impression that my son will kill him?”

“No, sir. I believe that he’s present at the time of, or immediately after my father is killed, but I do not believe that Rook is his killer.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Rook started to speak, then pressed his lips shut. It wasn’t his question to answer, and he knew he shouldn’t take it personally. Father was making certain he could trust Brynn’s word, not hinting that he thought Rook guilty of the crime.

Brynn stared at the Alpha like he’d sprouted a third eye. “Because we spoke. You understand instinct, Mr. McQueen, and my instincts tell me Rook is innocent.”

“You’ll blindly trust the word of a loup garou?”

“Blindly, no. But I trust logic. Rook gave me a new perspective on the vision, and I trust that.” She held the Alpha’s intense stare, and the fact that he blinked first increased Rook’s respect for the young Magus. She had a vulnerable side, but she wasn’t weak.

“All right,” Father said. “I hope that, under the circumstances, you’ll accept my invitation to be a guest in our home tonight.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I want to believe you, Miss Atwood, but consider my perspective. You arrive in town, my son is poisoned, and then we get word of a serious attack against another of our sanctuary towns. The timing is bad, and while I don’t want you to think of yourself as a prisoner, you are not free to leave, either.”

“I don’t know anything about the attack in Connecticut.”

“And that may very well be the truth. However, until I know who is responsible, I’m going to err on the side of caution.”

“But—”

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yes.” She glanced between them, then produced the phone without being asked.

His father took the phone and locked it inside of his desk. “Thank you, Miss Atwood.” To Rook, he said, “Joe Reynolds is informing the other Alphas of the trouble in Connecticut, and it will take Bishop several hours to get there. I’m returning to the floor for now. Once Dr. Mike has taken a look at both of you, you’re free to leave the office with her. Just stay close.”

“Of course,” Rook said.

After Father left, Brynn shifted in her chair to face him head-on. “Why does your doctor need to take a look at me?”

“Just being cautious, I guess.” Rook wasn’t entirely certain, either, why his father was concerned—the smell. It hit him again, with Brynn sitting so close, and in the excitement of everything else, he’d forgotten. Brynn had loup garou blood, and she’d come into contact with her own poison. His heart pounded harder as he understood the purpose of Father’s earlier note. She’d said the seizures began within thirty minutes of exposure, and it been at least that long since Rook was dosed. Would it take longer to affect her because she was a half-breed? Would her Magi blood protect her?