The Curse of the Wolf Girl (42 page)

Thrix turned her head sharply. “What fundraising event?”

“Your mother’s, of course.”

“But you’re not going to that.”

“But I am, dearest Enchantress. Some ancient wealth from the Hiyasta treasury smoothed the matter out.”

“You mean you bribed my mother?”

“I believe it’s called a charitable donation,” said the Fire Queen. “Distikka brokered the deal with Markus.”

Thrix shook her head. “Mother will have a fit.”

“But is not Markus head of the clan?”

“In name he is. But Mother’s the boss. I’m glad I won’t be around when she finds out.”

Ann reappeared with a tray of coffee. “Your mother and brother are on the way up.”

“What? They’re not due till tomorrow.”

Ann shrugged. The Mistress of the Werewolves and Markus were currently ascending in the elevator.

“It’s not long till dusk. Is this one of the nights you all have to change?”

The enchantress shook her head. “Fortunately not.”

The Mistress of the Werewolves swept in, elegant as always. She had a warm smile on her face that faded sharply at the sight of Queen Malveria. “Markus tells me he invited you to my event.”

“Is it not splendid?” asked the Fire Queen, brightly.

Verasa didn’t share her good humor. She’d been extremely displeased to learn that Markus had invited the Fire Queen and had spent much of the plane journey to London letting him know it. Markus himself was very elegantly attired, with a beautiful, long black coat draped over his suit, but he wore the expression of a werewolf who’d suffered.

Verasa faced Malveria squarely. “Many MacRinnalchs won’t be pleased to see the Queen of the Hiyasta. If you insist on coming, you’ll have to promise not to offend them.”

Malveria seemed to take this in good humor, to Thrix’s relief.

“The Queen of the Hiyasta is famed for her civilized manner. I am quite sure I will not offend. Besides, was I not responsible for securing the services of Mr. Felicori for you?”

“I understood my daughter took care of that,” said Verasa.

Malveria seemed on the point of correcting her but, determined not to start an argument, said nothing.

The door opened a few inches, and Ann’s face appeared. “Thrix, can I see you a minute please?”

“What is it?”

Ann hurried over to Thrix, put her mouth to her ear, and whispered, “Kalix is here.”

Thrix excused herself and slipped out of the office. “What sort of state is she in?”

“Agitated.”

“She’s always agitated. How bad? Slightly moody? Insane?”

“Not too bad, I think. I put her in my office.”

Thrix frowned very deeply. “Ann, Easterly is on his way over. And right now there are three werewolves here.”

“Four.”

“What?”

“Four werewolves, including you.”

Thrix tapped her foot on the floor. “Yes, I know I’m a werewolf. I meant other werewolves.”

“Oh, right.”

“Now that we’ve got that sorted out, could we concentrate on my problems? I’ve got an office full of angry werewolves and a Fire Elemental who’s liable to burst into flames when she gets upset. Plus my crazy young sister in your room. And my boyfriend is on the way.”

“Are you calling him your boyfriend now?” asked Ann.

There was a brief pause while Thrix considered this. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Am I too old to have a boyfriend? Should I call him something else?”

“I think boyfriend is still all right,” said Ann.

The enchantress felt quite pleased to have a boyfriend. She knew she wouldn’t have one for long if he discovered the truth about her family. “If he arrives before I’m finished with Kalix, try to keep him occupied. Don’t let anyone turn into a werewolf. Or burst into flames. It will destroy the relationship.”

Thrix was scowling as she headed for Ann’s office. She wasn’t keen to have Easterly arrive in the middle of some violent confrontation, which with Kalix, was always possible. As she hurried through the door, she noted that Kalix wasn’t looking too bad by her standards. She was at least clean, if still dressed in hand-me-downs. There did seem to be a mysterious smell of blood, however, though the enchantress couldn’t see where it was coming from.

“You know Mother and Markus are here?” asked Thrix, hoping that it might make Kalix leave.

Kalix made a disgusted face but wasn’t put off. She didn’t intend to leave till she’d questioned her sister thoroughly. “I went to Gawain’s place with Vex. She read the auras. She says you were there before he was killed.”

“Agrivex? The imbecilic Fire Elemental?”

“Yes.” Kalix stared at Thrix. “So were you there?”

There was a long pause.

Kalix straightened up and glanced out of the window, measuring how long it would be before night fell and she could make the change.

“I did visit him.”

“What for?”

“That’s none of your business,” said Thrix, meeting her sister’s eyes.

“Did you kill him?”

“Of course I didn’t kill him.”

“That’s what everyone says,” said Kalix, “but I think maybe you did. He liked me better, and you were jealous.”

“I’ve never been jealous of you in my life.”

“I think you were.”

Thrix had a brief urge to list the many reasons she didn’t feel jealous of her poor, deluded sister but instead simply shook her head. “I didn’t kill him. If Agrivex was any good at interpreting auras, she’d tell you that. But she isn’t. She can’t interpret anything properly.”

“It was her who found out you were sleeping with Gawain,” growled Kalix.

It was true. Thrix’s affair with Gawain had come to light because of Vex’s correct interpretation of their auras. Thrix dismissed this as irrelevant.

“I did visit Gawain, but it was weeks before he was killed.”

“Why did you visit?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Kalix snarled. It was an ugly sound. She glanced out of the window again, clearly anticipating making the change.

“If you’re thinking of attacking me, I’ll blast you out of my office with a spell. I repeat, I didn’t kill Gawain. Now I’ve got Mother and Markus in my office, and a guest about to arrive, so it’s time for you to go.”

Thrix made to leave. Kalix stepped in front of her.

Before they could come into contact, the door opened.

“Another visitor,” said Ann, hustling Decembrius into the office.

“Don’t we have any security at all?” demanded Thrix. “What do I pay these people for? What are you doing here?”

Decembrius seemed unwilling to explain. “I wanted to talk to you in private.”

Thrix glared at him. “You picked the wrong day for a werewolf gathering. I’m busy. Talk to Kalix.”

With that, Thrix hurried back to her own office where she found Malveria in the middle of a long anecdote about the last time she’d made Princess Kabachetka look foolish. Her mother was looking bored, though Markus, who’d always rather liked Malveria, seemed interested.

“Busy?” inquired Verasa, politely.

“A few unexpected callers. Fashion reps, that sort of thing.”

Verasa nodded sympathetically. Though she didn’t like the way her daughter separated herself from the family, she was pleased when her business went well.

“I am so looking forward to hearing Mr. Felicori sing again,” declared Malveria.

Verasa looked sour. Before Thrix could smooth things over, Ann appeared at the door, gesturing frantically.

Thrix went over to her so she could whisper in her ear again.

“Your boyfriend phoned. He’ll be here soon. And Kalix and Decembrius have started to fight.”

Thrix excused herself and rushed from the room, passing several of her employees before arriving in Ann’s office to find Kalix and Decembrius struggling with each other. At that moment, night fell. They turned into werewolves and kept struggling.

“Are you trying to ruin me?” yelled Thrix. “I’ve got fifteen human employees out there who don’t know I’m a werewolf. What’s the idea of transforming here? What are you fighting about anyway?”

“She started it,” said Decembrius.

“He keeps following me around,” said Kalix.

“I wasn’t following you around. I came here to see Thrix.”

“I was here first. Go away.”

“You go away.”

They started pushing each other again and growling.

“Stop this immediately!” cried Thrix, and she dragged them apart.

The door opened, and Ann appeared. “It’s a while since we’ve seen Dominil,” she said.

“What? Is she here as well?”

“Waiting downstairs at the desk.”

Thrix clutched her brow and swept back a few strands of golden hair. “Send her up.” She glared at Kalix and Decembrius. “Stop fighting. Change back to human. And then leave.”

She hurried back towards her office just in time to see Dominil stride from the elevator, rather regally, her long white hair hanging down in sharp contrast to her black leather coat. Several designers observed her with admiration, assuming she must be a new model hired by their employer.

“Dominil. What do you want? Malveria’s here, and so are my mother and Markus. And Easterly is on his way.”

“Easterly?”

“My, eh…new boyfriend.”

“I have some serious problems with hunters that I wished to discuss in private,” explained Dominil.

“Can’t it wait?”

The door to Thrix’s office opened. Verasa looked out. “Dominil! How nice to see you.” The Mistress of the Werewolves held Dominil in high regard these days.

Dominil greeted her politely in return, and Markus, as she entered the office. Queen Malveria, always rather interested in Dominil’s unusual nature, looked at the newcomer with interest. “Her coat hangs on her so well,” she mused. “Is it just because she is rather tall?”

“Could we talk before Easterly arrives?” asked Dominil.

“Easterly?” asked Markus.

“The new man in her life,” explained Malveria, helpfully.

“A human?” asked Verasa with disapproval.

Malveria looked surprised. “Were you not aware of this? But you must know that Thrix has had great trouble in finding a suitable werewolf. One cannot expect her to remain loveless and disappointed forever. She has done that for long enough.”

“Thank you, Malveria,” said Thrix. “Perhaps you could discuss my failures another time.”

“What does this Easterly do?” asked Verasa.

“He’s the fashion editor for a men’s lifestyle magazine,” said Thrix, which didn’t seem to meet with her mother’s approval.

“It’s not like there aren’t plenty of werewolves in Scotland,” Verasa pointed out. “Only last month, I offered to introduce you to that nice George MacRinnalch. He has his own law firm in Edinburgh now.”

“George MacRinnalch is the most boring werewolf in the whole clan!” exclaimed Thrix, now very irritated.

“Well, he doesn’t dye his hair, wear strange piercings, or desert his clan. In that way, he may be boring. But he’s very respectable, and he works hard.”

“But would he suit a werewolf of Thrix’s creative temperament?” said Malveria.

“Could you stop discussing me like I’m not here? I’m doing just fine with Easterly.”

“You certainly are,” agreed Malveria, supportively. “He is a splendid man. And there is no need to concern yourself that he’s late.”

“Why would I concern myself? He was held up at the office.”

“Not by the makeup artist from
Cosmopolitan
, we hope,” murmured Malveria.

“What?” asked Markus, immediately interested.

“Some magazine floozy who’s been flinging herself all over him. I have been urging Thrix to take action, but of course, she holds back. A great mistake in my opinion. At this very moment, Mr. Easterly may be engaged in lustful encounters with this trollop.”

“There are no lustful encounters going on!” yelled Thrix, mortified to be having this conversation with her mother in the room.

The intercom buzzed.

“That’d be Easterly now,” muttered Thrix, flicking the switch.

“There’s a girl called Moonglow here to see you,” came Ann’s voice.

“Moonglow!” cried Malveria. “Now that is entertaining!” She looked towards Markus. “Have you seen young Moonglow since you broke her heart with great cruelty?”

“What?” demanded Verasa.

“Moonglow, who lives with Kalix, as you know,” explained Malveria, cheerfully. “But perhaps you did not know about the breaking of her heart by Markus? I’m sorry if I have inadvertently raised a delicate subject.”

Malveria didn’t look at all sorry as Markus shifted uncomfortably under his mother’s gaze.

“Send Moonglow up,” said Thrix with some relish, thinking that there was no reason for her to be the only one suffering embarrassment.

“What’s that terrible crashing noise next door?” asked Verasa.

“My designers,” said Thrix. “Energetic meeting.”

She hurried back to Ann’s office where she found Decembrius and Kalix still pushing each other. Ann’s desk had been overturned, and papers were spilled on the floor.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“He keeps stalking me.”

“Your sister is insane,” said Decembrius.

“I’ve had enough of this,” growled Thrix. “Change back to human right this minute.”

Boosting her strength by use of a discreet little spell, the enchantress grabbed hold of the pair of them and hauled them into her office to deposit them in front of her mother. “Perhaps
you
can control them. Maybe ask Decembrius why he hasn’t attended any council meetings.”

It was Decembrius’s turn to squirm uncomfortably under the stony gaze of the Mistress of the Werewolves.

“I’ve been busy,” he muttered.

“Busy stalking me,” said Kalix.

“Are you stalking my daughter?”

“Of course not! Who’d stalk that scrawny little wretch?”

“Hey!” roared Kalix, and she immediately transformed into a werewolf again, baring her teeth. Decembrius did likewise, and they began pushing each other. Several others changed as well. It was difficult for any werewolf to remain as human while in the presence of other werewolves, particularly ones who were brawling. Making everything worse, there was the smell of blood in the room from the cut on Kalix’s arm. Though concealed from sight by her coat, the smell of blood was obvious to all the werewolves.