Blood and Chocolate (3 page)

4

By eight o'clock the large parlor of Vivian's home was full. The pack spread around the room on couches, chairs, and the floor in a rough semicircle that faced the fireplace—except Astrid, who lounged apart on the seat set into the bay window at the front of the house, and the Five, who loitered to the side of the window, bantering and exchanging playful blows.

Among the crowd were strays who had gravitated to the pack when it came to the suburbs, and others Vivian didn't know well who had worked at the inn when she was much younger. Many of those who had gone to join relatives when the trouble started hadn't come back.

Vivian felt a pang of loneliness.
This is all that's left of us,
she thought.
And no one I feel close to. Not even Mom anymore.
She curled up smaller in her armchair.

Astrid laughed at the boys' antics. When she tossed her head, her red hair flamed against the green curtains. With her sharp features and plump rear, she reminded Vivian more of a fox than a wolf.

Gabriel paced restlessly in front of the fireplace. Astrid glanced over at him repeatedly until she finally caught his eye; then she winked. His grin was slow and smoldering; she sat back with a satisfied smirk.

Vivian's mother saw the exchange, too. “Bitch,” she muttered. She leaned across Vivian to complain to Renata Wagner, then looked over at Gabriel and licked her lips pointedly.

Renata laughed. “Stop it, Esmé.”

Vivian turned away, embarrassed.

“Can we have quiet, please,” Rudy shouted.

Jenny Garnier flinched and clutched her baby closer to her. She'd been as raw as a trapped rabbit since she'd lost her husband in the fire. Rudy reached out from his perch on the overstuffed arm of the couch to pat her shoulder reassuringly.

Everyone looked his way expectantly. Well, almost everyone.

Willem and Finn cackled and batted at each other to either side of Ulf, who dodged between them, a panicked look on his small, pale face. Rafe was telling the awestruck Gregory how big some girl's breasts were.

Rafe's father, Lucien, twisted around in the easy chair he slouched in. “Quit it,” he growled, and raised a fist. Rafe glared at his father, but he waited until Lucien turned away before he gave him the finger.

“The insurance money's come through,” Rudy said into the silence. There was a brief hiss of whispers. “We've got enough to do what we want now.”

Vivian bit back a yelp of outrage. This was the news they'd been waiting for and Rudy hadn't told her. They had eaten breakfast together, for Moon's sake.

“And the funny thing is,” Rudy continued, “we wouldn't have got the money if Sheriff Wilson hadn't spent so much effort covering up the evidence that the fire was arson so his buddies wouldn't get in trouble.”

“Three cheers for Sheriff Wilson,” Bucky Dideron called, to gales of laughter.

Rudy raised his arms. “Okay, okay.”

The room quieted.

“My agents checked out some viable properties,” Rudy said. “It's time to choose where the pack will go.”

“And who'll lead us,” Gabriel said. Vivian was irritated to see Esmé smiling. There was no mystery about who she supported.

On the floor in front of their oblivious mother, Gabriel's sisters—disturbingly similar eight-year-old triplets—were intent on finding out who could sit on top of the others the longest. Vivian itched to go over and smack them till they yelped. Before she gave in to the itch Gabriel leaned over and whispered something to them and they settled down.

Old Orlando Griffin spoke up in a quavering voice. “Rudy, you're the one who's pulled it all together. You took us in when we were homeless, helped us settle in an unfamiliar place, found the lawyers, and found the agents. You've been a good leader while we've been here.” He pointed to Rudy with a burn-scarred hand. “I vote you leader for the move.”

“I appreciate your support,” Rudy said. “But I'm not going with you.”

“Rudy!” Esmé exclaimed.

Rudy ran his fingers through his badger-gray hair. “My life's here. I was willing to help while I could and get things going again, but now it's time for you to move on, and for that you need a different type of leader than I have the strength or the will to be.”

“You're assuming a lot,” Astrid called from her window perch.

Rudy's brow creased. “What do you mean?”

“What if we don't want to go?”

Vivian was amazed when Astrid wasn't immediately shouted down.

“You've got to go,” Rudy said. “This isn't the place for the pack. There are too many humans, too close together. With this many of us, sooner or later someone's going to make a mistake, and this time it might mean the end of us. Look at those boys.” He pointed to the Five. “Don't tell me they've got the common sense to stay out of trouble.”

“They're only being boys,” Astrid said, smiling indulgently at the Five.

“And maybe they got a point,” Lucien Dafoe said. “Maybe it's time to change the rules. Maybe it's time to hunt instead of be hunted. That's my opinion.”

“We know about your opinions,” snapped Aunt Persia, the elderly healer.

And your drinking,
Vivian thought. He hadn't handled his losses well. If anyone was a menace, he was. What if he lost control and revealed himself in some bar one night? Rudy was right. They had to get out of the city.

“But we've only now settled in,” Raul Wagner said. “We've got jobs.” He nodded toward his wife, Magda. “We've finally got a decent house.”

“And look what's happening to our kids while we're busting our asses trying to earn enough to live in this city,” his brother, Rolf, answered. “We need to live somewhere where we can afford our own business again, where we can make our own hours, make time for the kids.”

“Mom,” Vivian whispered anxiously. “What do you want?”

Esmé shook her head. “I like it here.” But she looked unsure.

I always took it for granted that everyone agreed,
Vivian thought.
That when the time came we would go.

The Wagners were arguing among themselves now, as if no one else existed; the triplets were wrestling and squealing again; Orlando Griffin was trying to raise his voice above the racket. Jenny Garnier burst into tears and the baby joined her.

Rudy jumped up. “Shut up, all of you!”

His words didn't do any good. The noise crescendoed. Vivian put her hands over her ears and wished they'd go away. She saw the Five edging toward the door.

Then Gabriel strode across the room and leaped onto the coffee table. “Quiet!”

The Five froze. The room fell silent. Almost.

Rudy knelt beside Jenny to comfort her, and gradually mother and baby stopped sobbing.

“A strong leader has control, Rudy,” Astrid said. “Maybe the reason the boys are running a little wild is you, not the city. I think with the right leader we can make a good life here.” She studied Gabriel with pleasure. “I know a good strong man when I see him.”

“You've known a lot of them,” Esmé said loudly.

Astrid's lip twitched but she suppressed the snarl. “What do you say, Gabe? Want to stay in town and lead the pack?”

Gabriel looked from one of the women to the other with languid amusement and Vivian thought she'd die of shame.

“Yes,
Gabe,
” Esmé said sweetly. “You've been very quiet. What do you say?”

“I vote we go,” Gabriel said, and jumped down from the table.

Astrid stared at him in amazement.

“Hah, I vote we go, too,” cried Esmé, “with Gabriel to lead us.”

Raul stepped forward to face Gabriel across the coffee table. “What makes you a leader, puppy? I've got years on you.”

Several other males stood up to argue their cases.

“Come on, let's vote on this,” Rolf said. “Let's be fair.”

“Who said this was a democracy?” cried Lucien.

“It's not,” said Aunt Persia, in a voice that rang effortlessly above the others, startling them all. The keeper of ancient magics raised her hands slowly, her rings glittering. “It is time,” she said, “to choose a leader in the Old Way.”

“But that's like stepping back into the Dark Ages,” Esmé cried into the shocked silence.

Vivian was stunned. The Old Way? When was the last time they had done that? Yes, her father could have taken on any male around and come out on top, but he had been made leader because of his management skills, and no one had challenged that. He was respected and well loved.

“Not completely the Old Way,” Astrid said. “Times are different.”

Aunt Persia eyed her coldly. “Males only.”

“No!” Astrid pounded her seat with a fist.

“You want to get us all arrested?” Renata asked.

“There are several state parks in driving distance,” Gabriel answered. “Places that are deserted at night.”

“We've lost so many of us,” Rudy said. “Do we want to cause death and injury to those who remain?”

“A leader must have the support of all the pack,” said Aunt Persia. “If there is no agreement, then the right must be won by combat.”

“The Old Way, the Old Way, the Old Way,” the Five began to chant. Rafe grinned gleefully; Finn's eyes sparkled as bright as the chains around his wrists.

Orlando Griffin rose and walked to the center of the room. The noise subsided. “As oldest male, I preside in matters of Ordeal,” he said. He pointed at the Five. “You are not of age. We do not wipe out our young.”

“We can fight,” Rafe snarled.

Whatever the other boys said was drowned out by the crowd. Everyone had an opinion. Everyone expressed it.

Vivian got up quietly and slipped out the door. No one noticed. No one stopped her, not even her mother. It was a relief to leave the house.

Outside, she sat on a bench under the ramshackle grape arbor, half hidden by the trailing vines. The backyard was quiet except for the chirping of tiny nightlife. Early fireflies danced in the shadows.

She had never witnessed the Ordeal. All she knew was that every adult male fought in his wolf-shape until one was left standing—the strongest, the smartest, sometimes the most devious.

She felt a surge of exciting heat, thinking of them in a tangle of fur and limbs. She pictured Gabriel, half changed, his scarred chest glistening with sweat. She shrugged the image off in anger. Would he win? And would her mother make a bigger fool of herself to become his mate and be Queen Bitch again?

The screen door slammed.

The Five came out into the back, mumbling and growling.

“That worn-out old dog,” Rafe said. “He can't tell us we can't fight.”

“Damn right,” agreed Gregory. “We deserve a chance.”

Vivian laughed.

The Five converged on her. They peered through the vines like angry satyrs.

Rafe tore aside the tangle of stems, and his claws grew. “What's so funny, Viv?”

“You,” she said. “You honestly think you'd have a chance in the Ordeal? That the pack would follow you? Grow up.”

Rafe bared his teeth. His new beard gave him a demonic look. “The fight's the thing,” he said tightly, but she knew his fantasy was to win.

“I don't want to get dragged back to the sticks again,” Willem said, almost pouting. His twin gave him a glance of disgust.

“Why not?” Vivian asked. “Life was good there. The hunting in the hills, long runs with no one around, no one to cry wolf, no hiding, no skulking, no worrying.”

“No fun,” ended Rafe.

“I don't like your kind of fun,” she said. “It doesn't amuse me to rouse lovers out of the long grass by snapping at their heels, or to creep up on children at dusk with my fur on to hear them scream.”

“It's a laugh, Vivian,” Gregory said. “Just a laugh.”

“You used to think it was funny,” Willem said, looking hurt.

“And how funny will it be when you scare the wrong person and get a bullet in the face?” she asked. “You might be stronger than
Homo sapiens,
you might heal faster, but you're not immortal. You
can
die if your head's blown off. It's not only silver bullets or fire that kills us; anything that severs the spine will do.”

“Come on, Viv. Don't worry,” Willem said gently. “We'd get them first, honest.”

Vivian groaned and a cold thread of fear ran through her. “That's exactly what I
am
worried about. This is the same shit that got our home burned and my father killed.”

Rafe swung himself through the crumbling frame of the arbor. Moonlight lent a brief sheen to his sleek, muscled arms. “But it's different in the city. Better. Lots of people. Lots of suspects. Easy to hide.”

“Anonymous,” Gregory agreed, shredding leaves from the length of a stem.

“Don't act so prissy, Viv,” said Finn. “You've got a taste for boy flesh, they tell me.” He ran a tongue over teeth that were pointier than they had been seconds before.