Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) (6 page)

I walked into the living room, aware again that I was in baggy pajamas. I tugged at my oversized T-shirt and tucked my short hair behind my ears, trying to straighten myself. Kyle was sucking on his fingers when I walked up, and I couldn’t stop the snort that escaped me.

“Shouldn’t try to open a witch’s door without her permission.” I nudged him out of the way with my hip and touched the doorknob, feeling the spell lift with a zing. When I turned the knob, the door opened easily, and Kyle made a noise behind me.

“So what, any witch can break your locking spell?”

“No, not any witch.” I held the door open for Jameson and a Were I hadn’t met. “Only ones that I give consent to. Ronnie is my friend and welcome to come and go from my house, as I am from hers, so we can break each other’s freezing spells.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Kyle said as he shook his hand.

“Jameson,” I said, finally turning my attention to the tall, broad-shouldered Alpha Were.

Jameson was one of those guys who was ageless. He could have been thirty-five or fifty-five, and there really was no way to be sure which. His dark hair was shot through with a dusting of silver, and his skin held the golden glow of a man with a healthy appreciation of the sun. He smelled of the forest and damp earth, but he never had the hint of tangy iron like some other Weres I knew. When Jameson smiled, his blue eyes sparkled. I didn’t think any girl really cared how old or young he was, not when he laid those soulful eyes on her.

“Mattie,” Jameson said with a nod, his voice low and rough like one would expect of a werewolf leader. “This is Samuel.” He gestured toward the slightly smaller man behind him.

Samuel was pale and blond, and his hair appeared extra bright in the dimly lit hallway. He nodded in acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything. He stepped in behind Jameson, being very careful to keep right behind his shoulder and just to the side. He was a wolf ready to attack at a moment’s notice. He was dressed in military chic, right down to his olive drab jacket and the black combat boots tied over his gray cargo pants. When he stood behind Jameson, he kept his hands clasped in front of him and his feet hip-width apart. I glanced at Kyle just in time to catch him hiding a smirk. I wasn’t the only one who thought Samuel was taking his job a little too seriously.

“Please, come in.” I waved them farther in so I could close the door. When I turned, I saw the slight bulge under Samuel’s jacket at his waist. If he wasn’t keeping his arms so rigid in front of him, the jacket would hang and the gun would be better concealed. “Everything okay, Jameson? I mean, what’s up with G.I. Joe over here?”

“Samuel?” Jameson glanced over this shoulder. “He’s my Third. My Second was otherwise occupied tonight.”

“Guy’s gotta have a life, right?” Kyle said with a sly smile. Kyle held out his hand and Jameson took it, the two men gripping the other’s shoulder with their free hands before letting go.

“So I hear you’ve had a visit from our peaceful, loving friends,” Jameson said as he turned toward the kitchen and walked over to examine the damage.

“Kyle seems to think so,” I said, following.

Ronnie had managed to clean the floor and was storing the broom and dustpan away when we walked in. She turned around, tucking behind her ear the one long red curl that had escaped her high bun. When she lifted her brown eyes, a smile automatically forming to greet my guests, she stopped dead. Her eyes fell on Samuel, and I watched her whole body freeze for a moment. It was over in an instant, and she recovered smoothly, her smile coming back as a deep crimson flush colored her face.

“Hello,” she managed, her voice rough. She had to cough to clear her throat.

I stole a glance at Samuel and saw that he too had a strange look on his face. His eyes, which he had been so careful to keep clear and straight, were locked on Ronnie’s face. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He looked like some hopeful puppy staring at a cookie that was just out of reach.

“Ronnie,” I said slowly, creeping around the trio of wolves to come to her side. “You remember Jameson. He helped me with Malachi. This is Samuel, Jameson’s Third.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Ronnie said, not even acknowledging Jameson. She seemed to realize her slight, and she blinked rapidly, shook her head, and tried not to giggle. “Jameson, very nice to see you.”

“Veronica,” Jameson said with a nod.

His eyes flitted to mine, and I gave a very small shrug. I wasn’t a werewolf with heightened senses, but even I felt the electricity zipping between witch and Were.

“Ronnie, please,” Ronnie said, her face flashing a deeper shade of vermilion.

“Do you need a cold drink or something?” I whispered to her.

Ronnie looked at me like I was speaking Elfish. “Oh, oh yeah, drinks,” she said quickly, grabbing hold of the distraction. “I’ll make us drinks.”

“If my glasses haven’t shattered,” I muttered as I turned back to the wolves.

“Yes, this is very unfortunate,” Jameson said, picking up on the change of subject. “Very lucky you weren’t hurt.”

“Oh, I got a nice face full of pepper spray.” I touched my cheek, feeling the lingering sting.

“Pepper spray and a homemade bomb? Yes.” Jameson nodded, examining the scorch marks on the cabinets. “Yes, this was P.E.A.C.E. An initiation if you ask me.”

“Initiation?” I asked.

“When new members want to join, they spend time as lackeys, passing out flyers, organizing rallies, sending out mailers, all that crap,” Kyle said. “But when they’re ready to move up in ranks, become full-fledged members, they have to pass an initiation.”

I guided the men over to the kitchen table, now with only three chairs. Samuel stood behind Jameson, so the rest of us sat while Ronnie continued to busy herself with making drinks.

“P.E.A.C.E. is very careful to keep up a certain image with the public,” Jameson said. “They don’t want to be known as a militant terrorist organization, which they are. So when people join their group, they have different levels of commitment to go through before they prove themselves trustworthy enough to know the real purpose.”

“It’s in their name,” I said, pulling one foot up into my seat. “You know, ‘eradication and cleansing’? What do people think that means?”

“Right, but they try to hide the means to those ends,” Jameson said. “So if you want to prove yourself, they give you a small but challenging task to prove you’ll do whatever they want.”

“Like kill a witch?” I offered, and Jameson and Kyle nodded solemnly.

“Have you heard the reports of an increasing number of runaway teens in the human community?” Jameson asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

Ronnie came out then, setting the tray of ice water and sliced lemons on the table between us. Jameson and Kyle each took a glass, but Samuel remained in his statue-like pose, not even glancing at the tray. I caught him stealing a look at my friend before his eyes were forward again though. Ronnie took a glass of ice water and squeezed a slice of lemon over it before standing behind me, resting her hip against the side of my chair.

“Well, a lot of people are starting to whisper that maybe supernaturals are actually kidnapping these kids,” Jameson continued.

“Kyle mentioned that,” I said.

“My pack is getting a lot of heat about it.”

“Why?”

“Teenagers have always liked running with the pack.” Jameson shrugged.

“Our pups like to street race, throw woodland parties, you know. All that crap any teen would want to join in on.” Kyle took a glass of water and three slices of lemon. Sitting back in his chair, he rested his right ankle on his left knee, totally at ease.

“And unfortunately, our male pups tend to attract young human females,” Jameson said.

Kyle shook his head. “I think it’s the female pups attracting the young human males if you ask me.”

“Kyle,” Jameson warned.

“Why?” Ronnie asked, earning a head shake from Jameson.

Kyle answered her anyway. “Our pups live a fast life. You know, it’s the moon singing to us, our blood rushing. We’re really out there, chasing excitement and danger.” He sipped his water. “We don’t fetter our young like the humans do. We let them live and sow those wild oats because we have hard, and often, short lives. Young human males like how fast and wild our female pups are.”

“At any rate,” Jameson said, his voice holding an edge of annoyance, “the P.E.A.C.E. people are starting to blame us for these rising numbers of missing teenagers.”

“But it’s not you,” I said.

Jameson shook his head. “But I think I might know who it is.”

“Who?” Ronnie and I asked together.

“During the last cycle, a new pack came to town, a gypsy pack,” Jameson said.

At the word “gypsy,” Kyle made a rude noise. He tried to cover it quickly by taking a long swallow of water.

“Lead by a young Beta by the name of Tollis.”

“A Beta?” I felt my brows come together. “I thought only Alphas could lead.”

“Only the strongest lead,” Jameson said. “If a Beta is the strongest in a group, then he or she is the leader. I am an Alpha. This pup is no Alpha.”

I felt the shift in the air as Jameson’s power lifted inside him, sending chills up my arms.

“We have a few Alphas in our pack,” Kyle said, surprising me.

“Yes,” Jameson agreed. “Kyle happens to be an Alpha.”

“Really?” Ronnie asked, her voice echoing my surprise.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Kyle said as he lifted his chin, feigning indignation.

“But Jameson is your Alpha?” I shook my head, trying to follow.

“He is,” Kyle agreed. “Not all Alphas are leaders. I definitely do not want to be a leader.”

“How do you not have challenges, like, all the time?” I asked.

“We do,” Jameson said. “Not all the time, but enough. It happens.”

“How often?” Ronnie asked.

“A couple times a year,” Kyle answered.

“And how long have you been Pack Leader?” Ronnie asked.

I knew she was being pushy by asking questions we had no right to ask, but I was so curious I didn’t stop her.

Jameson shared a look with Kyle before he answered. “Fifteen years.”

“So, give or take, you’ve defended your place thirty times?” I glanced at Ronnie and saw the shock I felt reflected back at me in her face.

Jameson nodded as a quiet settled over the room.

“So what about this Tollis?” I prompted, trying to rub away the goose bumps.

“He challenged me.”

“A Beta challenged you?” I was glad I hadn’t had any water because I would have choked on it.

He nodded. “Needless to say, he lost, and I banished him and all his followers from our territory. I welcomed any who wanted to join the pack, as is customary, but Tollis, having challenged me and lost, had to leave. His pack followed him. But they did not go far.”

“What do you mean?”

“They have set up camp just outside the city, just on the other side of the line of my territory. He is too close, but too far for me to lawfully do anything about it.”

“And you think he’s kidnapping human teens? What for?”

“To grow his pack.”

“You mean he’s trying to
turn
them?” I felt the color drain from my face, and a cold, clammy sensation settled in my stomach. Most Weres were born because to be
turned
was so violent and dangerous, most died from the process. “Gods.”

“I believe he is planning to grow his pack and use the newly
turned
wildlings to make a move on my pack, hoping the force of power will overwhelm me and mine,” Jameson said. “But neither I, nor any of mine, can go to his pack to see if I’m right without welcoming another challenge.”

“Uh, Mattie,” Ronnie whispered, her hand going to my shoulder.

“Clearly your friend has puzzled out the second reason I have come here tonight,” Jameson said. “I need your help, Mattie.”

“Oh no, no, no.” I dropped my foot to the ground and held up my hands, shaking my head.

“I recall you promising me an oath of debt,” Jameson said, cocking one dark brow.

My shoulders fell. The bastard was right. When Jameson had helped me cure one of his Weres who’d had a bad reaction to a love spell I’d sold to Joey, I promised Jameson I’d owe him one since he promised not to hold it against the pixie girl.

“Frogs on toast,” I muttered.

“This Tollis is a wild one, Mattie,” Kyle said, his voice no longer light and joking as he leveled me with his deep, dark eyes. “If he is planning to fill his ranks with wildings and he manages to overwhelm us, the whole city will be at risk. He’ll unleash bloodthirsty monsters on everyone, not just us. This is serious.”

“Frogs,” I groaned, pressing my fingers to my eyes. I immediately regretted that as a painful sting shot through my face. I hoped the residual burning would fade sooner rather than later. If I ever got my hands on that prissy little bitch, I would gouge her eyes out.

“Of course, I would pay you for this,” Jameson said, pulling me out of those angry thoughts.

“If it’s a job, then I can turn you down,” I said quickly.

“But you won’t,” Jameson said. “You wouldn’t be an Oathbreaker. We both know that, Mattie.”

“Dude, whatever.” I sighed, slumping back in my chair.

“Tomorrow I will send out a crew of men to take care of your kitchen.” Jameson sat forward in his chair.

I had forgotten that, among his many businesses, Jameson owned a construction company. I glanced at my ruined kitchen and thought about how much of my savings it would cost me to fix it, especially by Frankie’s deadline. I would probably have to kiss that entire twenty-five hundred bucks good-bye, along with the jewels I had left from Jimmy. When I looked at the Alpha wolf, he was watching my face expectantly.

“Do we have an accord?” he asked, holding out his massive hand.

“If I get myself killed going into that camp, I’m coming back to haunt you,” I said, holding out my hand across the table.

“I believe that’s fair,” Jameson answered with a gentle smile. His hand enveloped mine like a baseball glove, and it was warm and dry, like worn leather.

When we shook, I found I had no desire to bind him to his word.