Liam Takes Manhattan (5 page)

Liam grinned up at him, so happy not to be arguing with his dad anymore. Just plain stinking happy. “And I’m going to college!”

“Yes,” his father said, returning his smile.
“It appears that you are.”

W
hen exhaustion set
in, it was sudden and fierce. Liam went to bed early and slept in late. The only reason he woke up at all was because Pia knocked on his door and then walked into his room.

“Get up, sleepyhead!” she said.

“
Mmph
,” he grunted, and pulled his pillow over his head.

She dragged the bedcovers off his body. “I mean it—get up!”

“Mooooom, it’s too early,” he
complained. “You sound disgustingly cheerful, and I don’t need those covers anyway.”

“It’s not early—it’s almost ten o’clock, Liam. Here, I brought you a cup of coffee.”

He could smell the coffee from underneath his pillow, dark, rich and alluring. “Get thee behind me, Satan,” he said experimentally.

She burst out laughing. “Where on earth did you hear that?”

“Some woman muttered it yesterday
when she was looking at the pastries at Starbucks.” Light fingers tickled his bare feet, and he jackknifed to a sitting position. “
Hey!
You cheated!”

“There’s your beautiful face,” she said cheerfully. She had set the coffee mug on his bedside table. “If you get up and shower right now, you’ll have enough time to eat breakfast before we go to the West River Animal Shelter to meet with the executive
director, Eileen Riley.”

“What?” He stared at her then grabbed up the coffee cup. “But it’s Christmas Eve!”

She opened her eyes wide. “I know, right? I emailed them a basic inquiry yesterday afternoon, but I wasn’t expecting to hear back from them until after the holidays. Eileen just called me, and she would love to talk. Apparently they’re having some serious financial difficulties, and she’s
willing to consider almost anything to keep the doors open. She said my email was the Christmas miracle they’d been hoping for.” Pia paused and tilted her head. “You didn’t by any chance know anything about that somehow, did you?”

“No,” he said. He gulped coffee and stood up. “I just did some quick searches on Yelp and a reference librarian helped me compile a list of shelters. Then I checked
addresses, and West River was close enough that I could stop by from time to time to see how things are going.”

“Well, hurry up,” she told him. “We leave in forty-five minutes. And we have to get you a haircut sometime today. You’re starting to look like a sulky rock star.”

“Well, I
am
a rock star,” he said, deadpan.

She laughed. “That you are.”

Galvanized into action, he showered in record
time and dressed in jeans, lumberjack-style boots and a navy blue, ribbed pullover sweater. When he strode into the kitchen Pia had another cup of coffee waiting for him, along with a huge sandwich. He leaned back against the counter, took a large bite and said around his mouthful, “Where’s Dad?”

“Working.” A shadow fell over Pia’s face.

He paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Is
it stuff about Con?”

“Probably,” she said. The shadow passed, and she smiled at him. “He said if he can get away for an hour, he would join us in a bit. Not to look at the animals, of course. The poor things would be terrified of him.”

“I won’t go look at them either,” he muttered, as he finished his breakfast in record time. “They’ll be terrified of me too.”

Pia dumped his dishes into the
sink. “You never know, they might have some puppies and kittens that you can visit with. Let’s go.”

He grabbed his leather jacket, she slipped into her coat, and together, they went downstairs where Pia’s guard and friend Eva waited with a warm car. Pia climbed into the front passenger seat while Liam took the backseat. He watched the snowy city streets scroll past while the two women chatted.

Hopefully soon, someone from Glenhaven would read his application and get in touch with him. The college had three terms a year, and the next term started directly after New Year’s. His stomach knotted with equal parts fear and excitement.

I might be leaving home in a few weeks, he thought. That is, if Glenhaven has any room for new students. What if there’s a waitlist? What if I can’t get in
for a year?

It was the first time he had considered the possibility, and the thought was unwelcome. He knew he was privileged and lucky in so many ways. For the most part, things happened the way he needed them to, and if for some reason they didn’t, his parents moved heaven and earth to make sure they did.

But Liam Giovanni didn’t have that kind of support. He couldn’t, not and still keep his
identity a secret.

He blurted out, “What if I don’t get in?”

Pia and Eva fell silent for a moment. Eva asked, “Get in where?”

“I’ll fill you in on everything later,” Pia told her. Twisting in her seat to look at him, Pia said, “Honey, all any admissions counselor has to do is see how you can run fire up and down your hands and arms, while not getting burned. Believe me, they’ll let you in.
They’ll probably try to shove a scholarship at you too, no matter what your father says.”

His panic subsided a bit. He muttered, “I sure hope so.”

“Try not to worry.” Pia reached back to pat his knee. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Her reassurance helped, but only a little. Because what if it wasn’t? Sometimes things weren’t okay. People died, and bad things happened.

A shiver ran down
his spine, but he slid into silence again, crossing his arms and hunching in his seat as much as his seat belt would let him as he stared out the window.

West River Animal Shelter was located in a rundown industrial area in the southeast section of Midtown West, just north of the Lincoln Tunnel and close to the Hudson River. There wasn’t a parking lot, so as Eva looked for a place to park, Pia
turned around to Liam again.

“If you’re going to college as Liam Giovanni, we have to start working now to keep your identity a secret. We can’t tell anybody at the shelter about you.” Pia’s gaze was serious as she searched his expression. “We can’t explain that my magical son wanted us to buy the organization. As far as most of the world knows, you’re still a baby.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said.
“I’m cool with that.”

“And besides, I don’t even know if you can buy a nonprofit. We’ll probably have to make a large enough donation so that we can get a seat on the board and change policy from there.”

“I’m cool with that too,” he said. “I just want to change it so that it has a no-kill policy.”

“Well, one way or another, we’ll get that done.” She smiled at him. “And in the meantime, you
need to be one of my guards for this trip. Okay?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

Finally, Eva located a spot and backed into it, and Liam opened his door to step out on the snow-packed street. He followed Pia and Eva into the utilitarian-looking building, while he noted how Eva’s restless dark gaze never seemed to stop roaming.

Eva had been an excellent soldier. She had commanded the unit that Hugh had
been in, and now she made just as excellent a bodyguard. But she would never make a sentinel. What was the difference?

Eva was a canine Wyr, and her lifespan was nowhere near that of one of the immortals, but that wasn’t the difference. Dragos didn’t make a distinction between the immortal Wyr and the others—Eva was just as welcome as anybody else to try for a sentinel position if she wanted
it, and if she won the position, it would be hers for as long as she could do her job.

No, it was something else. Perhaps it was fire.

Eva didn’t have the drive to become a sentinel. While she had alpha tendencies, she had been content to be a unit commander, and she liked being Pia’s bodyguard. But Liam couldn’t imagine any of the sentinels being content with such a position for long, even
though they liked to wear a laid-back demeanor.

So aside from ability, experience and ruthlessness, did a sentinel need to be driven as well? And if so, did Liam have that kind of fire in him for the position?

All he knew for certain was that he was going to be asking himself a lot of questions during the upcoming year.

Inside, the large lobby was utilitarian as well. Somebody had tried to
make up for it by painting the concrete block walls with bright colors, and a large fake Christmas tree stood in one corner, decorated with pet toys and leashes.

They walked to the front reception desk where Pia gave her name. The elderly receptionist spoke on the phone and then told them that the executive director would be out in just a moment.

Smells assaulted Liam’s sensitive nose—disinfectant,
along with the scents of stressed animals. A man and two young girls walked past them with a border collie mix on leash. As it neared Liam, the dog shrieked and tried to pull out of its collar.

His heart sinking, he quickly retreated until the family could calm the dog enough to walk it out the front door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mom give him a sad look before Pia turned to the
front receptionist and asked, “Do you have a section with puppies?”

“We sure do,” the receptionist told her. “All the puppies that are up for adoption are through that glass door. You’ll be able to see it in a moment. I’m sure Eileen will want to give you a tour.”

“Certainly,” Pia said. She looked at Liam and told him telepathically,
Go visit with the puppies if you want.

He hesitated.
You
don’t mind?

Of course not.
She smiled at him.
We’ll just be talking about annual budgets and policy changes anyway. Go—enjoy yourself. I’ve got this.

Thanks.
As a brisk gray-haired woman strode up to Pia and Eva, Liam stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and strolled over to the glass door that led to the area where the adoptable puppies were kept.

On the other side of the door, a long
room held a series of pens with waist-high gates. High squeaks and yaps sounded as he approached.

He peered over the first gate, but that kennel was empty. The next held three sleeping Chihuahua puppies, curled in a pile on a folded blanket. He smiled as he looked at their small, round bellies.

The third kennel held two Rottweiler mix puppies that rolled along the floor and play-fought with
each other. He clicked his tongue at them and snapped his fingers, but they ignored him.

Indifference was a lot better than outright panic. Shrugging, he moved on.

The fourth kennel was the largest and it held the most. Seven puppies gamboled about. It was hard to tell what kind of breed mix they were. There seemed to be some German shepherd, along with maybe a splash of golden retriever, or
something else he couldn’t identify. The result was that the puppies looked somewhat wolfish, with narrow noses, yellow-gold eyes, and brown and tan markings on their soft, shaggy pelts.

As he watched, one puppy chewed its hind leg while one of its litter mates stalked up to it and pounced. Liam laughed as the pair fell over, growling at each other.

Bending over the gate, he reached down to
pet one of the largest of the puppies. It promptly turned to gnaw on his fingers with needle-sharp teeth. Another, smaller puppy fixed on him and bounded to the gate. It scrabbled at the barrier.

The thing was, his parents hadn’t been wrong. He really would have loved to have a puppy. But now he was going away to school, or at least he hoped he was.

If everything went well, he would be leaving
behind everyone he knew. His mother and father. His new baby brother. He would be gambling everything to take a shot at a big unknown.

If everything didn’t go well, and he didn’t get into Glenhaven in time for the next term, he truly had no idea what he was going to do with himself.

He wished he had friends, because he could sure use a friend to talk to right now. But there was nobody. His last
bunch of friends were years behind him in age and development. He had left them far behind with this latest growth spurt, and they wouldn’t be looking at going to college for years.

He’d had a good talk with Hugh, but Hugh was like an uncle. Hugh could offer good advice, but he couldn’t empathize with where Liam was at. Because nobody was where Liam was at. He was surrounded by people who loved
him, yet he had never felt lonelier.

Everything felt at once too big and yet too restrictive. His chest constricted, and he couldn’t breathe as the wide, wild world crushed down on him.

A woman bent over the gate beside him and held a long-fingered, tawny hand out to one of the puppies. She asked, “Which one are you going to pick?”

Liam paused, puzzled. He hadn’t heard anyone come in through
the glass door. He must have been more preoccupied with the puppies than he had realized.

“I’m just visiting with them,” he said in a choked voice. “I can’t actually have one.”

“Of course you can have one.” The woman scratched the puppy behind its ear, and it sat down, lifted its head to her and closed its eyes in bliss.

It was an odd thing to say to a total stranger. Liam gave her a sidelong,
wary glance. The woman was dressed in a long black and gold tunic and black trousers, and thick gold bangles dangled at her wrists. As they both were leaning over the gate, he couldn’t see much of her face, just a strong, high cheekbone and the graceful curve of her jaw.