Kelly Meade - Black Rook

“I’m also a full-blood loup garou. The ketamine didn’t affect me the same way it did you.”

He had an excellent point. Before today, the strongest drug she’d ever taken was aspirin for the occasional headache. She’d never had cause or occasion to ingest prescription drugs. It made sense that her system might react poorly. “Is the auction over?”

“A little while ago. Everyone’s cleaning up.”

“Oh.”

Rook gave her hand a squeeze, and she realized that neither of them had let go. His larger hand dwarfed hers, and yet seemed to fit perfectly. “You sound disappointed.”

Brynn shook her head no, even though she was. “I had hoped to observe more, that’s all. Why aren’t you assisting them?”

“I was waiting for you to wake up, so we could go home and get some dinner. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

At the mention of food, her stomach gave a soft rumble, and she laughed. “I haven’t eaten anything all day, actually. Coming here, I was too nervous to eat.”

“Good. My father has a large meal for all of the auction employees after every sale, to say thank you for their work.”

“How large a meal?” The idea of being in a dining room full of loup garou sent a cold shock down her spine that settled in the pit of her stomach.

Rook covered their joined hands with his free hand. “We can go over early and get plates before everyone else shows up. Sitting down with a dozen strangers probably sounds a little intimidating, doesn’t it?”

“A bit, yes.” She ought to pull her hands away, to separate them, but she liked the touch—a fact that stirred her gut with unease. Rook wasn’t a murderer, but he was still loup garou, and therefore capable of terrible violence. He should terrify her, not make her feel so strangely safe.

“No problem. If you’re feeling up to it, we can walk over now.”

“All right.”

He released her hand when she was on her feet, and she found herself missing his touch. Despite their violent beginning, he comforted her in a way she couldn’t explain, and in a way she didn’t dare ask for. Anything beyond this tentative friendship was impossible, because as soon as Alpha McQueen gave her permission, she was going home. Part of her rebelled at the idea of needing permission, that in some way she was a prisoner, but acquiescing to the request was easier than fighting. She had no resources to battle the loup garou now that her ring was gone.

After giving her back the necklace—they both agreed that shielding her Magi nature was still the best route for now—Rook led and she followed him out of the office she’d walked into only hours earlier fully expecting to confront her father’s future killer. Nothing today had turned out the way she’d imagined.

Contrary to the bustle of activity from before, the downstairs entry was empty. A few bodies moved around in the main room to her left, but Rook turned right and headed for the doors. The evening was still warm, but less humid than just a few hours ago, and the parking lot was nearly empty. Her rental car sat in its space, quiet and unassuming.

“We can take my car,” she said, realizing too late that Knight still had her keys. Yet another way for them to keep her in town.

“It’s just one street over,” Rook replied.

“Okay.”

Brynn took a good look at the layout of Cornerstone as they walked. Main Street connected off a busier state road and the majority of town seemed to be settled around it. The auction house was the first actual building marking the start of town, and just beyond it on Main was a large brick building that advertised a diner and coffee shop. More brick and stone buildings, their architecture dating back to the nineteenth century, stretched as far down Main as she could see, until the road seemed to turn left. Dozens of homes were built on side alleys feeding off Main, stretching back for several blocks, dotted with ancient oaks, elms, and willow trees.

The town itself was built in a valley, with the Appalachian Mountains rising up on all sides like a box canyon and only one road in or out. The wilderness around them probably gave the loup garou residents plenty of freedom to roam in their animal forms, and it also offered a great deal of protection from the outside world.

A sidewalk began on the other side of the auction parking lot, and she followed Rook past the busy diner and its steady flow of patrons. A few gave her a second glance, but she kept her head down and stayed close to Rook. Even if someone could sniff past the medallion and tell she was a Magus, she doubted they’d bother her as long as she stuck close to the Alpha’s son.

At the end of the block, Rook turned left down a narrow street wide enough for one car at a time to get through. Federal- and colonial-style houses lined both sides of the street, some with large yards, others with front doors that opened right onto the sidewalk. The trees shaded the road from the late-setting sun, creating a sense of peace she’d never felt in her hometown of Chestnut Hill. Hundreds of loup garou had lived and died here; she felt their history in every brick and board and sidewalk stone.

Rook crossed the street and stopped in front of the third house down. A waist-high iron fence ran the length of the yard, protecting the lovely three-story Victorian home behind it. A long porch stretched across the front, and a single spire on the right side of the house made her think of a fairy-tale princess trapped in a tower. A massive willow tree stood in the center of the yard, its long, leaf-covered branches bending far enough to brush the trimmed lawn.

“Is this your home?” Brynn asked.

“Yep.”

“It’s beautiful, Rook.”

“Thank you.”

An open gate took them down a stone path that led straight to the front porch. Brynn felt strange walking into the home of a loup garou, but Rook seemed perfectly at ease with her presence. As though what they were doing was absolutely normal, and she was just an acquaintance coming home for dinner. He opened the front door and held it so Brynn could go inside.

The foyer gave her an instant sense of what she imagined the rest of the house would be—a blend of vintage antique and lived-in comfort. A round, ornately carved table held a vase of fresh flowers, and right below it was a jumble of sneakers and work boots. An antique oak hall tree was covered in a similar mix of sweatshirts and baseball caps. The dueling scents of furniture polish and cooking food made her smile with its hominess.

“The parlor is in there.” He pointed at a closed door immediately to their right. “Father uses it when important guests come to visit, but it’s mostly just for show. Living room is on the left.”

She peeked inside, pleased to see two large sofas, a leather recliner, several tables, and a well-stocked entertainment console. It was a room that people lived and relaxed in after a long day. A wide staircase led upstairs, and a hallway went straight past it. Rook led her in that direction, pointing out two more doors under the stairs—the first a closet, the second a half bath—and another on the left that led into the dining room.

“The library is in there.” Rook nodded at a half-closed door just past the bathroom. “I think we have more books than the town’s actual library does, but our family has maintained it for generations.”

“I’d love to see it, when there’s time,” Brynn said.

“Definitely.”

At the end of the hall were steps leading down and to the right. “Conservatory-slash-greenhouse. It’s one of Bishop’s hobbies. Plus having fresh herbs on hand at all times keeps Mrs. Troost happy.”

“Mrs. Troost?”

“Our housekeeper. Brace yourself, she’s probably in the kitchen.”