Moonlight: The Big Bad Wolf (Black Swan 4) (17 page)

Glen was early and nursing a large Brazilia coffee.

"Join you?" Storm joked.

"Yes sir. Would you like me to get you a coffee?"

"No. It takes a few minutes for my stomach to come to grips with being inside my body after Litha gives me a ride." He glanced around to see who might be within hearing distance. Then he seemed to get lost in thought.

"You know I'm dying here."

"Hmmm?" Storm turned back to Glen. "Oh. Yeah. So, okay, I've got to have your word that this is confidential. Not a sound to anybody. Right now we're just talking."

Glen nodded.

"Sol's getting married."

Glen grinned. "Wow."

"And he plans to retire in two years."

"That's nice. He... deserves it."

"He asked me if I wanted the job."

Glen's eyes went wide. "Whoa. Really? That's... shooting pretty high. There's nobody in the organization more powerful except Council members. Right?"

Storm watched Glen's reaction carefully. "Pretty much."

"So you're going to be the new Sovereign of Jefferson Unit. And I
know
you! Can I have your autograph? Will I get special treatment because you know me?" The kid was grinning and seemed genuinely excited about the prospect of being personally acquainted with the incoming boss man.

Storm couldn't help but chuckle. "No. You can't have my autograph. And, no, I'm not going to be the new Sovereign of Jefferson Unit."

"You're not?" Glen's excitement died as his brows drew together. "Why not? How could you turn it down?"

"I'm not going to be the new Sov here because you are. And I'd better not ever find out that you're giving people special treatment 'because you know them'." Storm put that last phrase in air quotes.

"I don't know what you..." The kid's forehead smoothed out as his grin returned. That gave birth to a good-natured laugh. "Good one. Is there a camera?" Glen was looking around for evidence of being punked.

Storm shook his head. "No camera, kid. And no joke either."

"Okay. I don't get it. What are you
really
trying to say?"

"Sol offered me the job. I said no, but recommended you."

"Me?!? Why would you do that?" He made it sound more like an accusation than a question.

"Got a feeling that you're the right guy for the job. When I was a vampire slayer, I learned to rely on gut feelings. I give them credit for the reason why I'm standing here right now breathing in and out. They're more reliable than eyes and ears."

Glen frowned. "But I'm a trainee. Not even..."

"I know. Sounds crazy. But there it is. What do you say? You interested?" The boy looked dumbstruck. "Sol and I talked about it..."

"And he agrees with you?" Glen sounded incredulous.

"Not exactly, but for whatever reason, he thinks enough of me to be willing to give you a try. A... test of sorts. To see how you might handle yourself in different situations."

"So it's not like I'm being offered the job straight up. I'm being offered an opportunity to audition."

"Exactly. It's not a command performance. It's only if you want to.

"I don't want to give you the idea that the tests he has in mind are easy. In fact, I wouldn't lay odds on
anybody
else." Oddly enough, as Storm proceeded to make the prospect of occupying the Sovereign's chair sound more and more challenging, the more interested Glen became. "Have you ever heard of Z Team?"

"Z Team. No. Who are they?"

"Never mind. It's just as well. So you know, I should point out that the job is typically thankless and lonely and not nearly as glamorous as Hunter Division is cracked up to be."

"Yeah. Don't sugar coat or anything."

"Eyes wide open. Best policy and practice. Questions?"

"Well, when you say 'lonely'...?"

Storm shrugged. "That's the way Sol did it. I guess everybody who's ever held that job put his own stamp on it, sort of molded it to fit his personality. My understanding is that, as long as things run smoothly, the higher ups don't really care how you get it done.

"Sol's approach was to work 18/7." Glen winced at that. "I'm not saying it couldn't be done differently, but...

"Look, you probably don't know this. Sol recruited me."

"He did?"

"Yep. By the time I declared he was Sovereign of Jefferson Unit. My first active duty years were mostly in Europe. When I was assigned here, the place ran like he'd invented the job. Since I've never seen anybody else in that position, it's hard to say what could or couldn't be done.

"I can tell you for sure that there's one aspect that's constant and that's the ability to make quick decisions. Are you a person who can make quick decisions?"

"Yes sir."

"That's good because I need an answer right now. You interested?"

Glen was thinking about how to respond when he realized his head was nodding up and down. Oddly enough he
was
interested. He wasn't sure why. Maybe he had gut feelings, too.

Storm looked at his watch. "Meet me at the Sovereign's office at 1400. Dress warm and in layers. Grab a pack with snacks, water, hat, gloves and a few thermapacks for fingers and toes - just in case. Your first test is coming up and it's not a fake test or training exercise. It's an important assignment and an indication of just how much faith I have in you.

"You're leading a team of three, including yourself, to Elk Mountain to talk to the king about the demon's proposition. It's the position of The Order that, if we
can
do something to save a benign supernatural species from extinction, then we're obligated to help. Any questions?"

"How long will we be gone?"

"Probably a few hours."

Glen looked perplexed. "Hours? Isn't Elk Mountain in Idaho?"

"Yes."

"And aren't we in New Jersey?"

"Perceptive, Catch. We're hitching a ride with my wife and... my father-in-law."

"Oh." He nodded. "Am I moving back here?"

"Yes. I'll talk to Sol about retrieving your stuff from Edinburgh." Storm laughed softly. "Simon's probably going to be fit to be tied when he finds out we stole you right out from under him, but, technically, you were ours first and we never gave you up. We just loaned you out for an internship."

"You make it sound like Jefferson and Headquarters are rivals."

"I did make it sound that way, didn't I? Shame on me." Storm grinned.

"Thing is, if I'm leaving Scotia, there are a couple of people I should probably say goodbye to in person."

"Goodbye sex?" Storm was pretty matter of fact about the question and Glen wasn't expecting that. After all, Storm was an old married man. The best response he could come up with was blinking. Twice. "I'll take that as a yes. In a few days, we can see about letting you stow away on a flight with an extra seat."

Storm started to get up, then sat back down. "One more thing. This, considering you for this job... It's all kinds of record breaking. You should feel really good about yourself.
Mixed
progeny or not."

Storm's protégé put his lips together in the smallest suggestion of a smile. "Thank you, sir. And, just one more question. Who are the other two on my team?"

"Sir Hawking and myself. He's going because the king knows him. I'm going to observe and report on your strengths and weaknesses." Storm smiled. "No pressure though."

"Right." He tried not to sound sarcastic even though his brain had already gone into stress or steroids. They expected him to complete a portion of a performance interview in front of the two men he admired most in the world. And it was a real mission. Not a training exercise. He felt a lump in his throat and his palms were already starting to feel clammy. "Thank you, sir."

Walking away with his back to Glendennon Catch, Storm smiled to himself, thinking that the trainee was probably feeling a lump form in his throat just about then, followed by noticing that his palms were getting clammy. Good. The more pressure he felt to perform, the better. If he couldn't handle a friendly diplomatic outing with Ram and Storm, his two biggest supporters, then Z Team would shred his ass while having cookies and milk. They wouldn't break a sweat doing it. They wouldn't feel bad. And they wouldn't look back.

Glen needed to prove to Storm and himself that he could handle whatever was thrown his direction. And that was the only condition on which Storm would sign off on turning Z Team loose on him.

Glen was leaning against the wall with his pack on the floor at his feet, waiting in the vestibule that led to Sol's suite of offices. He heard the elevator ding at the end of the hall, coupled with the laughter of occupants exiting on the same floor. Of course he recognized the voices before he could see the faces. Sir Storm, Sir Hawking, Lady Laiken. With his slightly better than pure human hearing, he also picked up the much smaller sound of bubble blowing and gurgling that had to be Helm.

He grinned when they came into view.

Elora was carrying Helm. Glen leaned over to plant a kiss on the baby's flawless, smooth little rosy cheek then offered his finger which Helm grasped with a toothless smile and a little free-form jig.

"Glen," Elora's eyes looked misty, "I don't care if they put you in charge of this assignment because you're a quarter werewolf. I'm so proud of you." She sniffed and had to look away. Controlling tears was a constant struggle for her. She had learned that people were often uncomfortable with too much crying, but she was an emotional girl.

"Oh, for Paddy's sake, Elora. We'll probably be back in time for dinner." Ram chided her playfully.

"You know perfectly well that's not why I'm..."

"No' why you're what?" he teased.

"...feeling sentimental."

Looking at Glen, Ram said, "You could do worse than have such a creature as that on your side, you know."

Glen looked embarrassed. "I know."

Storm led them into the conference room and shut the door behind them. "Litha and her dad will be here in a minute. Elora, we probably don't need a full briefing, since Ram knows Grey, but is there anything you want to share with Glen that might be useful for him?"

Elora sat and adjusted Helm on her lap. "I don't know how much you know. His name is Stalkson Grey. According to the stray we retrieved in London, he's old school by werewolf standards. Here's the
Catch 22
." She grinned when she realized there was a connection to his name. "He will probably want to 'dominate' you..." She did a one-handed air quote on dominate. "...but won't give you his respect if he can. He does this weird staring thing that's some sort of whoever-looks-away-first game."

Glen, being very familiar with werewolf culture, looked down and quietly snorted in amusement at Elora's irreverent, outsider's perspective. He could see why it probably did seem both bizarre and stupid from her point of view.

"You probably have a better handle on werewolf politics than we do. The first time we met I called him a despot or a tyrant or something like that. After I put him down on the ground, he got over our differences and became, I don't know, amiable, maybe even charming. It was just an odd transformation. The hardest part is getting past the dominance ritual.

"When he was here a few days ago, it was evident that he's really worried about what's going to become of them. I wish you had time to learn more about the tribe, their society, history, and so on before you go, but..."

"No. That's okay. I have that covered. I hacked The Order's database a couple of hours ago and pulled what I need. Thank you."

Elora looked up at her team mates. Storm's features were passive, but she knew he was duly impressed. Ram was wearing a little smile of unmistakable pride. He nodded at Elora as if to say, "That's our boy." She nodded back to him, smiling in complete agreement.

"Good. I talked to the king on the phone last night and told him The Order is sending emissaries with news. He's expecting you."

Litha and Deliverance appeared right next to Elora. Mother and baby both jumped. Helm cried loudly about being startled while Elora grasped at her chest like she was having a heart attack.

Litha was appropriately contrite. "Oh no. I'm
so
sorry," she told Elora. Looking at Helm, whose little face was almost as red as his hair, she said, "I've been a bad auntie." Still sniveling, Helm turned his face into his mother's breast and refused to look at Litha.

"Yes. You certainly have." Storm pulled her away and put his arms around her. "I'm thinking spanking."