Black Dog (21 page)

“It could use stitches,” Ezekiel told Alejandro. “You ever stitched somebody up? Hell, just tape it up for now and we'll get moving. I'll drive. The pup will ride shotgun–” that was a threat, because it would keep the boy within Ezekiel's reach “–the woman behind me, Williams beside her, you behind him. Move.”

They all moved. Alejandro more than half expected to find
policia
on the road as they drove toward the highway, but there was nothing. And there had never been any outcry from the neighbors. Maybe they were too far away to have heard anything, or maybe this was one of those neighborhoods where no one wanted to run toward trouble. He guessed that the neighbors might specifically not want to run toward any trouble Thaddeus Williams got into. Even if they knew nothing about black dogs, they probably knew he was dangerous and
escalofriante
– uncanny, was that the word? Eerie, unnatural.

It seemed a long way back to the airport. No one spoke. Traffic was not as maddening on this return drive, but with the sun down, the streets became even more confusing. Alejandro could feel the pull of the moon even through the brilliance of the city lights – it dragged at his shadow, tinted his vision with the crimson of bloodlust, made him want to surrender to his shadow and leap out of the car into the wild hunting ground this immense city would provide.

Alejandro kept a wary eye on Thaddeus, but maybe the silver bracelets countered the moon's influence, for he seemed indifferent to its tidal pull. Alejandro set his teeth against the forceful, dangerous drag of the moon until the long drive at last returned them to the airport. Alejandro was almost as glad to see the planes raking their paths of light through the sky as he would have been to come home after a dangerous, difficult hunt.

Alejandro had worried that Thaddeus or DeAnn might make a scene at the airport, their last chance to make trouble where there was a crowd for confusion and protection. But Ezekiel had Alejandro carry the boy and he then tucked DeAnn's arm through his as though he was her escort. Although their little group got the occasional odd look, they were not, after all, passing through the commercial terminal. Then they climbed into the Dimilioc plane, and that risk, at least, was past.

Alejandro sat in the back of the plane with Thaddeus and his wife. Ezekiel took the boy – Con, his parents called him, but Alejandro did not know whether that stood for Conner or Conrad or what – up to the cockpit with him.

Young Con did not cry or, which was more likely for a black dog pup, try to fight. Alejandro wondered what kind of bedtime stories his father had told him about Dimilioc wolves, but the boy's rigid quiet came from more than scary stories. Any black dog puppy must feel directly, personally, the dense burning strength of the Dimilioc executioner. Where a human child might have screamed himself hoarse and fought like a fool, a black dog pup naturally flattened down before a strong black dog, hoping to buy tolerance with submission.

There were half a dozen comfortable seats in the back of the plane. Ezekiel left the door between the passenger area and the cockpit open, so Thaddeus and his wife could look forward and see their son in the seat next to Ezekiel, a constant reminder to cooperate.

Thaddeus deliberately placed himself between his wife and Alejandro, exactly as Alejandro would have done if their positions had been reversed and he had needed to protect Natividad. Thaddeus must know that this protective gesture was pointless. Even if he were not bound to his human form by those silver bracelets, the man would realize that with his son in Ezekiel's hands, he could do nothing but stay quiet. Of course, he must also know that if he did nothing, then later when they landed and put themselves into Dimilioc power, Grayson Lanning could do anything he chose to any of them. The back of Alejandro's neck prickled with his awareness of the man's anger and fear and unvoiced despair. It pleased his black dog, but Alejandro did not like it – and DeAnn was also frightened, which he liked even less. But he couldn't say anything to reassure either of them, partly because he didn't know what to say but mostly because Ezekiel had made it clear he wasn't to say anything at all.

“These people are Grayson's to deal with,” he'd told Alejandro before they boarded the plane. His tone had been flat and uncompromising. “Don't muddy the water. You can't make any promises. I don't want you offering reassurance or threats or so much as a word of advice. Understand?”

Alejandro understood. But it made for an extremely uncomfortable plane flight, and all the more uncomfortable because before they took off, Ezekiel also said, leaning back in his seat to look back into the passenger compartment, “The last word from Dimilioc is to make all possible speed on our return. We will therefore not stop before we arrive at Newport. I believe we have enough fuel to manage. We should reach Dimilioc at roughly seven in the morning. Get some rest if you can, but don't relax too far. Call me if Williams gives you any trouble. It's for moments like that they invented the autopilot.”

Alejandro nodded. “At Dimilioc… What…?”

“I don't know,” Ezekiel snapped. “Everyone is fine right now, the message says. Trust Grayson. He won't let anything happen to your sister.”

Alejandro heard just the faintest growl vibrating under that assurance. For the first time he realized that it might be a good thing to have Ezekiel Korte interested in Natividad: it had not occurred to him until this moment that Grayson might work hard to keep Natividad alive just to avoid trouble with Ezekiel.

But he said merely, “Yes.”

“Keep an eye on things back here,” Ezekiel added, and stared hard at Thaddeus, who stared back for a heartbeat before he looked down. “Don't give me any trouble,” he said at last. “Or him, either.” By which he meant Alejandro. “I'm sure I don't need to point out that trying to kill the pilot of your plane while thousands of feet in the air lacks a certain
je ne se quoi
.
But I will also add that I'm tired and I'm going to get more tired, that the moon's call will be stronger once we're in the sky, that this damned cut from your damned knife hurts like a son of a bitch, and that I'm not long on temper at the moment. Is that clear?”

Thaddeus bowed his head low. And, after Ezekiel turned back to the plane's controls, Thaddeus did nothing more threatening than sit between his wife and Alejandro, his head still down. None of them spoke, Alejandro because of Ezekiel's warning and Thaddeus probably because he was afraid Alejandro would take offense at something he said and complain to Ezekiel. Or maybe because he was afraid that if he said anything, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from making threats, then from trying to carry them out – he was so angry, and they both knew that he was stronger than Alejandro.

DeAnn did not speak, either. She sat close to her husband, leaning her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed and her fingers laced with his,
dulce de leche
against dark chocolate. The close presence of two hostile black dogs was surely enough to explain her silence, though Alejandro would have liked her to talk, would have welcomed the sound of her voice. If not for Ezekiel's order, he would have talked to her as though she was Natividad: anything, nonsense, just to hear her answer.

Was Natividad safe? What trouble had led to that order to hurry back? Alejandro did not want to think about that, but of course he could think about nothing else.
Everyone is fine right now
. Well, good, even that assurance made it clear there had been trouble.

If Thaddeus did anything to slow them down, Alejandro decided, he would help Ezekiel beat the hell out of him.

 

7

 

Natividad hated the way she felt after Alejandro left with Ezekiel – frightened and timid, like a little mouse trapped among wolves. She was afraid to leave her room. It was ridiculous to feel this way. She
never
felt this way. But when she stood at her window and watched Ezekiel drive away with her brother, the big car crushing the snow of the driveway, its headlights plunging into the pre-dawn darkness of the winter forest, even though it was totally ridiculous, she
did
feel that way.

“He'll be fine,” Miguel said. “Ezekiel won't hurt ‘Jandro.” He was sitting cross-legged on her bed, watching her rather than looking after Alejandro.

“Eso es, lo sé
,” said Natividad. Her twin
was
right. Alejandro would be perfectly safe with Ezekiel, because Ezekiel wanted her.

Who would have thought the one Dimilioc wolf most determined to have her would be her own age? Well, almost, anyway. Although he didn't exactly want
her
. It would be so easy to fool herself about that, but Ezekiel would probably keep
any
Pure girl company while she made cinnamon rolls. There was nothing flattering about it. He probably didn't actually
like
her at all. Which was
fine
. Nothing about the deal with Dimilioc depended on anybody actually
liking
anybody else. It certainly didn't matter whether
she
liked the Dimilioc executioner or thought he was
muy
atractivo
.

“You'll be fine, too,” Miguel said, too perceptive for comfort. Natividad tried to smile. When her brother held a hand out to her, she crossed the room and tucked herself on the bed next to him, curling up small among the pillows. Miguel moved over to give her room. “The famous Mallory charm's got nothing on you,” he promised her. “They'll all be wriggling like puppies for you in a week.”

“Oh, right…” Natividad said.

Miguel laughed at her. “Oh, yes, they will. Benedict's already making eyes at you, and Ethan's going to come around, you wait and see, and of course you've already got Ezekiel. All the boys looove you. Puppy love, all cute and wriggly, you wait and see.”

“You're an idiot,” Natividad said, but she gave up and laughed, as he had intended. “Wriggling I don't need! Anyway, Ezekiel…” She stopped, not knowing how to finish that sentence. Thinking about Ezekiel didn't make her want to laugh at all. He was courting her, obviously. That was better than him not bothering, right? At least he cared what she thought. She was pretty sure.

Executioner at fourteen.
Almost
fourteen, he'd said. That was hard to imagine. What would that
do
to somebody? Nothing good, she was sure. She sighed. If Mamá was here… Mamá could have handled Ezekiel and Grayson and Keziah and
everybody
…

“Yeah, about that thing with Ezekiel…”

Natividad didn't want to talk about that with her twin. That she couldn't talk to
Mamá
about Ezekiel hurt so much she couldn't think about it more than an instant. She didn't want to let Miguel guess about that because it would only bring back his own vivid grief and anger. She jumped up, went back across to the window, and drew a pentagram with her fingertip on the window glass, just below the one she had drawn there the previous morning. The pentagrams might be invisible to ordinary sight, but when she turned her head so that the light fell on the window at just the right angle, she could see them. They glowed on the glass, milk pale, as though they reflected moonlight even though no visible moon rode in the overcast sky.

She drew a third pentagram above the other two, then traced a finger across each one.
“Que la paz este en esta casa
,” she said, and then repeated it in English: “Let there be peace in this house.”

“In
this
house?” Miguel said.

Natividad nodded, acknowledging his tone. “Everyone here is unhappy or afraid.” She thought about this and sighed. “Mostly both.”

“Well, you know, black dogs. I'll see if I can work with Ethan. Grayson wants him to help me make silver bullets, so that'll give him a chance to get used to me. He's not really so bad, I think.”

“It's hard for him,” Natividad agreed. “I bet it always has been hard for him. Imagine growing up in the same house as Ezekiel. I bet he couldn't ever match Ezekiel in anything even when they were both little.”

 “Exactly. And he probably knows Alejandro is stronger – which I think he is – and
now
there's
Keziah
. Oooh.” Miguel clutched his chest, pretending he'd been struck by an arrow, but Natividad was pretty sure he wasn't really kidding. “Ethan's afraid he's going to wind up right down on the bottom of the whole younger set,” Miguel added. “He'll like having me around.”

Natividad laughed. “Oh, yes, of course he will, until he finds out what a bully you are! No, you're right, I thought he was kind of a
bastardo
at first, but I think you're right. He's just scared and worried.”

“So, I'll see what I can do with him. What do you think about his father?”

“Oh, well…” Natividad had barely exchanged two words with Harrison Lanning. She said slowly, “He's worried about his son, I expect, but that isn't all. There's something else there. He doesn't like me – or something. I'm not sure.”

“We'll figure him out. If he doesn't like you now, he will – everybody does.” Miguel sounded perfectly confident. “What about Zachariah?”

Natividad grinned. “Oh, I like him! I do. I think Grayson really depends on Zachariah – I didn't think black dogs could really be
friends
, you know, but you can see they are. And maybe Harrison, too. I think Dimilioc is lucky all three of them came through the war.”

“Yeah.”

 “James, I can't tell yet. He seems like kind of a jerk, but at least he really cares about Dimilioc. That Keziah, though – wow.”