Lore vs. The Summoning (10 page)

"Help what?" I asked in a slow, wary voice.

"I'm gonna help you find out who Chet was workin' for," he said with a resolute stare aimed directly at my eyes. "That's what you're doin', isn't it?"

I couldn't deny that had been my plan. "I don't recall asking for your help."

He chuckled. "You don't have to ask, honey. I can see that you need it."

I resisted the urge to tell him exactly what it took to get me into a state like this. But I needed some aces up my sleeve yet. For all I knew, he could be the one Chet had been working for. "I work alone."

"How cliché," he said with an actual roll of his eyes.

That should have been my line. Irritated I snapped, "Look, I don't know that Michael wasn't working for you. And there isn't a whole lot you can do to prove he wasn't. You are his Alpha after all."

"I don't kidnap women," the Alpha said in his low voice.

I waved a dismissive hand at him. "Yeah, well, you might have that nifty ability to sense a lie but unfortunately I don't."

"If it were me runnin' the show, don't you think I'd have killed you for what you did last night instead of offerin' help?"

"You have a point," I begrudgingly admitted. "But with my luck, no, you'd come here just to screw with me for a bit before you killed me."

He shook his head in disbelief. "And I thought I was paranoid."

"Well, I told you what I could," I said while painfully getting to my feet. "Time for you to mosey on down the road."

The Alpha stood but instead of head toward the door, he walked for me.

I pulled my head back and to the side to look at him suspiciously when his hands reached out for me. "What are you doing?"

"Helpin' you to bed," he said simply as if I were an idiot not to realize it.

I stared at him in silent irritation.

His hands dropped to his sides. "Right." And surprisingly he walked to the door, out it and closed it behind him without my having to fight him.

That had been far too easy. Nothing was ever that easy. Dominick the Alpha werewolf was going to come back to haunt me. I was certain of that.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Clad in a nice knee-length black dress, one of many I owned for the symphony, I stepped through the doors of the steakhouse that was the unofficial stomping grounds for the area shapeshifters. The owner knew I was coming. I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

I'd gotten six more hours of sleep after the werewolf Alpha had left. It was enough to fully heal my heel and stop the bleeding from the gunshot wounds, but I still hurt and I was still bruised. I'd applied a healthy coating of make-up to hide my weakness.

When I came around the corner behind the hostess and spotted the restaurant's owner I contemplated if putting on make-up had been the best idea. He was reclined in one of his larger rounded booths with his left arm tossed up over the back edge. His dirty blond hair was longer than the last time I'd seen him. It was curling around his ears and out where it hit the base of his bronzed neck. He needed a haircut but I was in no position to suggest it.
 

His eyes and mouth held a bone-tired expression that wasn't natural for him. It transformed the moment he spotted me. The frowning mouth lit into a bright smile until he got control of it, switching to the crooked smile I was used to seeing.

Grayson Dennison was the first member of the Underground factions I'd met after my father had given me my powers, transforming me into the full-blown Diakonos I was today. That had been nine years ago. A lot had changed in those nine years but apparently not everything.

"Gray," I nodded at him stiffly once I'd reached his booth.

He ignored my cool greeting to draw himself into his six foot two inch frame. He closed the space between us without a thought and pulled me into the circle of his strong arms. Gray was the very symbol of life in my eyes. It would be centuries before he'd begin showing his age of twenty-seven.

"How have you been, Lore?" He asked in a voice that sounded far too ordinary considering what he was, which was the most powerful shifter in the state of Massachusetts. He'd used my nickname, the one my friends had used when I was younger. It was nice to hear it again.

I tried to pull back so I could give the answer because this pose felt far too intimate. He held onto me for a few seconds longer before reluctantly releasing me. It was probably too long for two people who were supposedly just friends.

"I'm not here on a social call," I said, still stiff.

"I know," his smile faded a little. "You never visit me on a social call."

Like a gentleman out of time Gray helped me into the seat across from where he'd been lounging, gestured for someone to bring me a drink and only when he'd seen me settled did he take his own seat.

"I'd still like to know how you are," he said while we waited for my drink to arrive.

"I've had better days and I've had worse," was my noncommittal answer.

"You're walking pretty slow," he noted. "You must be in pain."

I nodded because there was no point lying to him. As a shapeshifter he'd sense the deception. And my being in pain would help me when I broke the news.

Gray's head lowered toward me so he could speak at a softer volume. "I've seen you heal faster than any of us. It must have been pretty bad."

My shoulders lifted flippantly as I scanned the room for potential threats. "It's a case of overexertion." The restaurant looked like an ordinary restaurant apart from the odd shifter here and there eyeing me warily.

Their leader's head drew back to eye me carefully. He must have spotted something he didn't like for his lips flattened and he soon declared, "You should see my Healer."

As Prime of Massachusetts, Gray had some nice perks. An on-staff Healer was one of them. An on-staff Healer that he could trust to keep their secrets from the Covens was even better.

"You should wait until you've heard why I had to heal before you offer me services," I said without meeting his eyes.

"I'll always offer you services, Lore, no matter what you did."

I didn't like the way his voice had dipped low when he'd said "services" but I supposed it was my own fault for using that word. Another flippant shrug punctuated my words. "I'll be good as new after a good night's rest."

"So this happened today?"

"Last night."

"Didn't you heal while you slept?"

"Some asshole woke me up at eleven this morning."

The waiter arrived with a bottle of orange Crush. I couldn't help but smile at Gray. He'd remembered my preference for sugary orange-flavored drinks.

"Thanks," I murmured while glancing away from the pleased expression that grew on his face. Sipping on the drink gave me an excuse to keep quiet.

"I've already got my season tickets for the B.S.O." Gray started in on a new topic. "Wes is planning a trip down for the Fourth. You're still playing in the Pops right?"

I was the only principle player that played in the Boston Pops as well as the Boston Symphony Orchestra. I'd begged for the right when they'd refused to make me associate principle. And I'd taken half the pay it would have usually merited to seal the deal. "Yeah."

"Excellent." His head bobbed as if it really were excellent. "We can't wait."

Wesley Dennison was Gray's younger brother. Unlike Gray, he'd stayed in upstate New York with the rest of the Dennison clan. It was actually very strange for a shifter to leave their family unit. But Gray had moved to Boston seven years ago. I supposed it had been a good move on his part considering the power he now wielded. He'd still be second fiddle to his father in the Dennison Clan if he'd stayed.

"Still no ring on that finger," Gray noted in a tone that was playful but the widening of his eyes seemed to say the topic was significant to him. "When is someone going to make an honest woman out of you?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "You'd think you'd have learned by now."

"Yeah," he half laughed, an uneasy sound to my ears. "Always the same debate, isn't it? You tell me you'll never get married and I tell you you'll be overcome with the typical female lust for matrimony as soon as you meet the right guy."

I bobbed my head in agreement, adding, "And I scoff at you long and loud until we agree to disagree. So let's just cut right to that."

"You haven't changed one bit, Lore," Gray replied with a broadening grin.

"I've changed." My lips twisted sourly. I pointed a finger to my temple. "I found a gray hair last week."

"That's aging, not changing."

I glanced away from him because it was a reminder that aging was something he wouldn't have to worry about for centuries. That particular issue would have been a huge sticking point between us if I'd ever been stupid enough to date him. Unlike vampires there was nothing a shapeshifter could do to keep their mate from dying a quick mortal death, not that I had any particular interest in becoming the walking dead.

"Speaking of the right guy, how's Zeno?"

I blinked hard at Gray, half in confusion at his leap and half in irritation at the name he'd uttered. It was the name belonging to my childhood best friend and sometime boyfriend. "We're off again," I said bitterly.

"Oh?" Gray's wheat colored eyebrow lifted. "How many times does that make now?"

"I've stopped counting." My voice was in its sharp I-don't-want-to-talk-about-this mode.

He gave a hearty laugh that irritated me even more. "You know if you'd picked me instead of him all those years ago, things would have been completely different."

"If I'd picked you all those years ago I would have been cheating on him. Neither of us would have respected me if I'd done that," I reminded him.

Gray's lips spread into his cheeky grin. "I could have handled a little loss of respect for you."

I let out an unladylike snort. "Like you knew how to respect women back then. How could I forget? You were a womanizing dog. Another reason I didn't pick you."

The cheeky grin fled to something darker that he quickly covered with a flirty wink. "It wouldn't have been a problem unless you'd fallen madly in love with me."
 

I lowered my eyes and said nothing. I
had
liked Gray when we were teenagers. I'd avoided anything serious with him because I'd thought I could have fallen bad for him. Hell, I still had a huge soft spot for him to this day. But one-night stands were his shtick and I'd never wanted to be one of those to him. Maybe the spot I'd stuck myself in was worse.

"So what did Prince Charming do this time?"

I lifted my gaze again. Explaining what had happened with Zeno was somehow more comfortable ground to be on. "He expected me to drop everything and move to London with him."

"He still doing that venture capitalist thing?"

"Yeah, that and real estate development."
 

Zeno was also chasing a lead on our kind. But even after nine years of friendship Gray didn't know what I was. I'd never fully explained, only showed him what I could do.
 

According the Kastio we weren't allowed to tell anyone about what we were because it would reveal the existence of the gods to the world, something about the world being unable to handle it. That was apparently an issue even in the already hidden Underground. So I had the lovely distinction of keeping my nature a secret from not one, but two different societies. It was a big reason why Zeno and I had been on again off again for so long instead of just off. He was one of the only people on Earth with which I could actually relax.

Gray poked at the topic of my love life just a little more, "Any new beaus?"

My stupid, stupid brain immediately jumped to Aiden's lovely smile. Kastio was going to rant at me for that one. "Nope," I quickly retorted. "And before you say anything, I'm completely okay with that. It means I don't have to clean the apartment."

Gray chuckled lightly.

I fixed him with my best professional expression. "So did we get the niceties out of the way? Can I say what I came here to say now?"

His cheerful expression instantly faded. "Why you always gotta do that?"

I'd half expected that response from him and waved it off as if it were of no concern. But I did address it. "Because you're just going to try to flirt your way into my pants if I let you continue. It's not going to work anymore than it did back then."

Gray made a cutting gesture. I'd made him angry. That wasn't a good way to start this conversation.

I inhaled slowly for courage and then blurted out, "Last night I killed one of yours."

He nodded soberly, knowing trouble with shifters would be the only reason I'd have come here out of the blue. That or I'd needed his help. He knew me well enough to know I didn't ask for help lightly.

"His name was Chet Nimpton," I continued.

Gray didn't so much as exhale at the name. I didn't know what that meant.

"He was keeping women hostage in a basement in Jamaican Plain and blackmailing a werewolf to bring them to him. I'd have liked to find out who he was working for but he shifted and attacked me before I could get it out of him."

"He was working for the Covens," Gray told me. "He'd gone rogue a long time ago."

There were few actual rules in the Underground. One of those few was that everyone had to belong to a faction. If you didn't, you got the distinction of being considered "rogue" and could be subject to harsh punishment. Technically I was rogue. Most of the Underground thought I was some sort of witch and the witches thought I was some sort of fae. Since no one knew what I was for sure, no one could demand I join a group.

"Oh, thank the gods." I practically cried in relief upon hearing that the guy I'd killed hadn't been one of Gray's shifters any longer. Gray was one of the only people I hated disappointing. If Chet had been a golden boy among the faction I'd have felt awful.

"I wish I could tell you which Coven but I didn't know any more than that," he added. "I do know that whoever it was has a place inside the Dungeon."

I nodded. "Yeah, I've figured that much out." With a grumbling tone I added, "It's basically all that I've figured out."