Authors: Kelley Armstrong
13 (47 page)
Would Lucas ever become CEO of the Cortez Cabal? Maybe. In time. But Benicio was still healthy and there were supernaturals out there who needed Lucas, protector of the underdog, more than they needed Lucas, Cabal CEO.
I looked at them—my friends, my bosses, my foster parents—curled up on that couch. Then I smiled, backed out, and spell-locked the door.
I was calling Adam again when I heard a familiar clicking of stiletto heels and looked up to see Jaime and Jeremy coming my way.
“I thought you guys made your escape already,” I said.
“We tried,” Jaime said. “I got stopped by a certain demanding master manipulator.”
“Benicio.”
“No, the Fates. They want me hanging around to act as mouthpiece for your mom while the Cabals clean up this mess. Which reminds me, she wants to talk to you. Your dad does, too. I think they’ve done some manipulating of their own with the Fates. You might get one last face-to-face before the veil closes completely.”
“Ms. Vegas?” a young man hurried along the hall. “Mr. Cortez needs—”
“I know, I know.” She turned to me. “Give me an hour.”
“Wait, first, have you seen Adam?”
“He was with Elena, I believe,” Jeremy said. “They’re …” He looked down the hall. “I’ll take you there.”
Jaime smiled, squeezed his arm, then followed the clerk. Jeremy and I headed the opposite way.
“So are you staying in Miami with Hope and Karl?” I asked.
He shook his head. “None of us care to linger longer than we need to. Once Jaime’s done we’re joining the others in Russia.”
That’s where Antonio and the rest of the Pack had relocated during the trouble here, taking refuge with the Russian Pack.
Jeremy continued, “Taking a baby on an intercontinental flight doesn’t seem wise, especially with one parent still recovering from the birth and the other from near-death. But Karl wants Hope and Nita out of Miami, and Hope wants to go. Benicio will send us in the private jet with a doctor.”
Apparently, then, Karl had resolved his issues with Elena. I’d never doubted it. He might like to play lone wolf, but now that he had a family, his first instinct was to take his wife and child to the safety of his Pack.
“Are you going to be in Russia long?”
He shook his head. “We’ll head home in a few weeks, if you’d like to spend some time at Stonehaven this summer. You haven’t done that in a few years.”
“No, I haven’t. I think I’ll take you up on that.” I glanced at him as we turned the corner. “So, I guess with all this turmoil, you won’t be stepping down as Alpha anytime soon.”
“Actually, I will. Elena’s ready. I already knew she was. She wasn’t so sure. But now there’s no question—she can do this.
It’s time.”
“Have you told her?”
“Not yet. When I get to Russia, I’ll break the news. She’s ready to be Alpha.” His crooked smile grew, eyes sparkling. “And I’m ready to
not
be Alpha. Maybe get in a few adventures while I’m still young enough to enjoy them.”
He rapped on a closed door. Elena called, “Come in!”
I pushed open the door to see her with Clay, chairs pulled up to a desk, the twins on a huge monitor.
“Savannah!” Kate yelled. “I see Savannah!”
Kate scrambled closer to the camera, shoving her brother aside. As they bickered, I glanced at Jeremy. He’d stayed behind
the door and was now retreating, motioning to Elena that he’d talk to the kids later.
“Smart man,” she murmured.
Logan had reclaimed his half of the screen and was leaning forward, frowning. “What’s wrong with Savannah’s arm?”
I lifted the cast. “Broke it doing something dumb.”
“Was it rock climbing?” Kate said. “You promised to teach us.”
“I will this summer. I’m coming to visit after you get back.” Kate let out a whoop. “I wanna break my arm so I can get a cast and have everybody sign it.”
“That’s stupid,” Logan said.
She shoved him. “You’re stupid.”
“Sorry,” I whispered to Elena as the twins tumbled out of sight. “I was actually just looking for Adam.”
“Oh, he’s down the hall making some phone calls. I’ll take you.”
“Yeah, run while you can,” Clay muttered. He leaned toward the screen. “Guys! You’ve got five minutes before bedtime. Do you want to know when we’re coming home?”
“Now!” Kate yelled, popping up. “I want you here right now.”
“They can’t teleport, dummy,” Logan said.
“If you call her that again—” Clay was saying as we closed the door.
“Kids getting bored?” I said as Elena led me away.
“No, the guys are keeping them busy. They just want Mom and Dad to quit this crazy save-the-world nonsense and go camping with them this weekend.”
“Gotta have priorities,” I said.
We took a few more steps.
“So I take it you’re not worried about Malcolm?” I said.
She shook her head. “Another adventure for another day. We need a break and, last we saw, he was safely in Nast custody.” She pushed a half-open door. “And there’s Adam.”
He turned and motioned to his cell phone.
“Thanks,” I whispered to Elena. “Oh, and congratulations.”
“For what?”
I grinned. “You’ll find out.”
I stepped into the office and eased the door shut as Adam got off the phone.
“Ah, so that’s why you’ve been ignoring my calls.”
“Ignoring … ?” He checked his messages. “Shit. I was on hold. Never even heard the beep.” He strode toward me. “Is it Bryce? Is he—?”
I held up a hand to stop him. “Awake. The doctors checked him. He seems fine. I’m giving him some time with Sean. He needs to tell him about Thomas.”
“Right.” He shook his head. “That’s a shitty thing to wake up to.”
“Which is why I left them alone. So, I know it’s getting late, but I was hoping to talk you into a drink, if you’re done with work.”
“Wasn’t working.” He walked to the printer, took off a couple of sheets, and handed them to me. “For you. A little ‘thanks for saving the world as we know it’ present. There’s a T-shirt coming, too, but it’ll take awhile.”
“T-shirt?”
“Yep. It says ‘I defeated Lord Demon Balaam and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.’?”
I laughed. “I’ll count myself lucky if that
is
all I get. I’m still waiting for him to show up and use my
hide
for a shirt.”
“He won’t. Too humiliating. Better to just blame Gilles de Rais for screwing up everything.” He waved at the sheets. “Now read.”
I skimmed the first page. “Our ski trip to Switzerland?”
“On my dime. And a very expensive dime it is, too. That place ain’t cheap. But you’re worth it. Just remember that when I ask you to come heli-skiing with me.”
“I’m not doing skiing of any kind.” I lifted my cast. “Did you forget something?”
“Did you check the dates on that reservation?”
They were for two months from now.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘
oh
.’ I figure that’ll give you time to recover.”
“Time to find an apartment, too. I’m moving out as soon as we get back to Portland.”
“Good. There’s a vacancy at my apartment.” He lifted a hand before I could speak. “In my apartment
building,
I mean. I know you’re not ready for cohabitation. You need to live on your own. At least for a while.” He put his arm around my shoulder and led me from the room. “Now, you mentioned buying me a drink?”
“I don’t think I said—”
“Yep, pretty sure you did. We might want to make it a double. Have you checked the office e-mail lately? Apparently, the world didn’t stop while we were busy saving it. Lots of work waiting.”
“Lots of
adventures
waiting.”
He grinned over at me. “Always lots of adventures waiting.”
And so there would be. Things had happened in the last few weeks. Big things. Maybe even things that would ultimately alter our world. But one thing wouldn’t change. There would always be work to do, threats to defeat, adventures to be had.
I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Thus ends the Otherworld, with Savannah looking forward to a lifetime of adventures. It may seem an odd note to finish on, but this is how I’ve always envisioned the ending. I’m not sending the characters into their rocking chairs, to doze away their retirement years. I haven’t created a world where that is even possible. There is no final victory that could let them all live peacefully-ever-after. But as Savannah says, they wouldn’t have it any other way. Theirs is a life of threats and challenges and, yes, adventures. This is, for me, their happily-ever-after.
Will readers ever share in those future adventures?
Yes. I do have more stories to tell. And I will tell some of them in three anthologies of short fiction, the first to be published in 2014. I may even, someday, return to share a bigger story, when the time is right.
I’d like to thank some of those who helped bring to life not only this book, but the entire Otherworld series.
Thank you to my agent, Helen Heller, who has been with me from the start. Without you, there would be no Otherworld—just a writer working away in a basement and occasionally thinking wistfully of that old werewolf novel she’d loved writing.
Thanks to Anne Collins of Random House Canada and Antonia Hodgson of Little, Brown UK, who have also been with me from the beginning. I recall that first dinner with Anne, before she bought
Bitten,
when I was so certain I was going to screw up, and she was so gracious and enthusiastic about the project. I also remember Antonia Hodgson’s early notes from across the ocean, suggesting that
Bitten
could use a little more gore, which I gleefully provided.
My editorial helpers have been a little more varied in the United States. Sarah Manges of Viking came first, for
Bitten
and
Stolen,
and launched a series. Anne Groell from Bantam took that series and made it a bestselling one. Then Carrie Thornton from Dutton stepped in for the final trilogy and helped me wrap it up.
I’d also like to thank Faren Bachelis, who has been my copy-editor for most of the series. She’s helped me see many of my
grammatical flaws, but apparently the proper use of hyphens will remain beyond my comprehension.
Thanks, too, to my own team …
To Alison Armstrong, who took on the thankless job of assistant for a scattered big sister who often dumps thousands of contest entries into her inbox and stacks of editing work onto her front doorstep … forgetting to warn her that it’s coming.
To Xaviere Daumarie, who serves in the equally thankless position of “artist of all trades,” collaborating with me on graphic stories, illustrating novellas, providing extra covers and art for swag. An artist who can take three photos of Italian male models, some vague and muddled instructions, and give me a picture of Nick is worth her weight in gold Sharpies.
To my beta readers, who’ve kept me from making some stupendous errors (all of which are far too embarrassing to admit here). Thanks to Ang Yan Ming, Danielle Wegner, Raina Toomey, Terri Giesbrecht, and, again, Xaviere Daumarie, who all helped with this book and many before it, and to Tamara Warden, who came on board for
Thirteen
.
You helped make it happen, guys. I won’t forget that. Though I may still forget to warn Alison about new contests before I announce them.
Kelley Armstrong
lives in rural Ontario, Canada, with her family and far too many pets. She is the author of the bestselling, thirteen-book Women of the Otherworld series, which begins with
Bitten
and concludes with
13
. She is also the author of two YA series – the Darkest Powers and the Darkness Rising books – and two adventure novels about a hit woman,
Exit Strategy
and
Made to be Broken
.
Cainsville
, the first book in her brand-new series, will be published in 2013. For further information visit www.kelleyarmstrong.com
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