Cool Hand (10 page)

He was asking if Larimer was likely to have challenges that might split the pack. A fair question.

“Felix is still the alpha; they’re doing what he says. But he can’t go against fundamental things that affect the whole pack. The Call is like a…” I struggled to think of a way to describe it.

“Democratic voting system,” Bian said, joining us. The software glitch had apparently been fixed.

“Yeah, but with a kind of feedback as well. Once the majority makes a decision, the rest of them feel pressure to come into line and they will. At that point, Felix can’t go against them. It hasn’t been decided yet.”

“And Larimer is in favor of this new structure?”

“Yes. I think he was trying to steer us toward it.” After he’d offered to marry me as a way around the confrontation. I was still feeling dizzy from that. Kind of flattered, yes, but more bewildered. He’d been serious. Felix didn’t do things halfway…

“If he moves too openly on something like this,” Bian added, “he risks creating a counter effect. They might feel he was only doing it to avoid a challenge, for instance, and the pack wouldn’t like that.”

Naryn tilted back and drew a deep breath.

“Let me see if I’ve got this straight. There’s an outcome on the fundamental structure of the pack still teetering in the balance. The Confederation threat has not been dismissed and was possibly made worse by your preemptive action in claiming an association between the pack and Altau. The pack has an ongoing internal problem of new Were who can’t change, which you’ve stuck your nose into. All you have on your side is an alpha whose command structure you’ve compromised and who has to be cautious about his management of the pack in the structural changes you’ve proposed.” Naryn paused, and my guts went into in free fall. “How do you think Larimer will feel about your taking a Basilikos into your House, which, as you’ve claimed, is the same as your sub-pack, and so part of his now?”

Oh, shit.

I hadn’t seen that. I’d been so focused on what it felt like to me, as House Farrell, and then what Altau would say, I hadn’t gotten around to thinking of the pack ramifications of Yelena. Dammit, Felix’s wife and son had been killed by Basilikos.

Others might have the luxury of considering one thing at a time. I wasn’t ever going to have that again, and it was time I got used to it.

“Not strictly Basilikos,” I said as a delaying tactic while I tried to get my head around the depth of the mistake I’d made.

“No.
Strictly
, a spy from the Domain of Carpathia, the Athanate group whose standard operating procedure is to kill all Athanate intruders, which practice they are apparently now extending to formerly free cities like Istanbul.”

I was in trouble on all sides.

Stop digging
, said Tara in my head.
Stop reacting. Think about what will be necessary to fix this. Think!

Tara was right.
I’m trying,
I replied testily. But my brain synapses were firing too slowly, like thick syrup was running through my neural pathways. A quick glance at Bian told me she agreed with Naryn.

But Larimer’s reaction wasn’t Naryn’s primary concern. He was watching me, his eyes hawk-bright, seeing how I reacted.

My wolf wanted to snap at him, but I couldn’t. I fought to get myself under control. “I’m sorry I acted without discussing it with you and Bian first,” I said. “And I need to apologize to Felix as well, but I can emphasize to him that she’s Carpathian rather than Basilikos. I’m confident I can manage that face to face.”

Out of Naryn’s line of sight, Bian’s head dipped a fraction. Enough encouragement for me to go on.

“Taking it from where we are now, I can’t go back on my word—”

“Yes, and neither can Altau. Not to you, not on the commitments you’ve made for Altau.” He scowled and made an impatient gesture to sum it all up. “You’ve responded with knee jerk tactical decisions to complex situations and landed the whole of Panethus in a piss pot.”

He was deliberately flipping between Were problems and Athanate problems.

And he was watching how I handled it, not listening to the arguments I made.

I’d underestimated him. Because I’d seen him angry before, I’d expected angry. But whatever his expression, he was ice-cold underneath. Well, I could do that too.

Keep telling yourself that.

Instead, I went on the attack. Maybe not the wisest action. “If you’re talking about claiming an association with the pack to get the Confederation to stand down, I’m not backing down on that. House Tarez didn’t think it was a problem, and since I haven’t had Skylur on my back, I’m guessing he didn’t think it was either. What would you have done? Gone in with all guns blazing in the middle of Denver?”

He couldn’t deny that would have landed the whole paranormal world in the piss pot, as he put it. So he ignored it.

“Skylur hasn’t had time, and Tarez knew nothing of the circumstances, so his opinion is of dubious validity,” Naryn said, his tone deliberately dismissive. Baiting me again. “What do you think the Confederation is going to do? By now, they’ll know the threat was empty. There’s no way Altau can defend against the Confederation while we’re completely committed to fighting off Basilikos.”

“But Skylur himself talked about an association with the Denver pack.”

“He didn’t. He said they were allies. There’s a big difference.”

That was news to me. I was taken aback. “You abandon your allies?”

Naryn tightened his lips. He didn’t like me questioning him. “If necessary. But Athanate cannot
ever
abandon associations. You’ve committed us to a fight with the Confederation that we can’t—”

I could feel the heat rising in me, and I wanted to snarl. I opened my mouth.

“It’s done,” Bian interrupted both of us. “We can’t go back and undo it. We have to focus on the threat from Basilikos before we can look at solving the crisis with the Were. Amber is right in one respect—it’s fundamental to Emergence. We can’t announce ourselves to humanity while we’re having a war with the Were, or the Were are fighting each other, any more than we could while we’re having a war with Basilikos.”

Naryn turned to her. He surely hadn’t missed her timely rescue, keeping me from shooting my mouth off. I didn’t know if that would count against me or not. “Exactly how do you propose we avoid having a war with the Were?” Naryn said.

My turn to take the heat off Bian. “Make associations,” I said. “The Confederation can’t rely on a conflict between Basilikos and Panethus lasting forever. If they attack us while we’re fighting Basilikos, that’s as good as a declaration of an alliance with Basilikos. I don’t think they want that.”

“She has a point,” Bian said.

Naryn waved it away. “It would be a better strategic decision to ally ourselves with the Confederation and impose them as a government on all Were, including Larimer.”

“No!” It felt like he’d kicked me in the stomach. He couldn’t be serious. Inside, my wolf scrabbled in panic at the thought. I had to fight her down.

“Why not?” Naryn said. “Put emotions aside and explain to me why we are better off associated with a pack who don’t like us and who are in a vulnerable position?”

I couldn’t answer rationally. But my Were side wouldn’t let me consider an association with the Confederation. I was stuck. Right where Naryn wanted me.

“This is an order: put the case to Larimer,” Naryn said, closing the topic. “Tell him we’re not abandoning our association, but there’s simply no assistance we can give at this stage. He has to make his peace with the Confederation, or face the consequences alone. Once he’s within the Confederation, Altau can assist in peacefully preventing the encroachments on his authority or territory that he seems to be concerned about.”

My hands clenched out of sight beneath the table, and I ground my teeth.

There was
no
chance of Felix making peace with the Confederation. I knew that through my Were side, but I couldn’t explain it. And Naryn’s sweetener about assistance wouldn’t sway the argument an inch.

Naryn moved on before I could say anything, and he caught me by surprise again with something I hadn’t seen coming.

“You’ve initiated a contact with the Empire of Heaven,” he said. “That’s completely unauthorized.”

“You’re wrong,” said Bian. “Skylur wanted me to open a conversation with the Empire. His instructions were to make it tangential.”

“And a discussion about dragon spirit guides is tangential?”

I took a deep breath.
Calm.
“That part was my fault,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “Bian didn’t know, and I didn’t realize it was such a sensitive topic.”

“How could you—”

“Enough!” Bian interrupted him. “We cannot have this discussion without Skylur.”

“You’re no longer the Diakon of House Altau,” Naryn said. “And I prefer to hear House Farrell answer for herself. Unless you feel she’s incapable of taking responsibility for her own actions?”

The room went silent. I could feel the tension thrumming between the three of us.

This time it was Bian who reined herself in. “I had my instructions directly from Skylur. I have his full authority on contact with the Empire. You don’t.”

They stared at each other, but Bian wasn’t backing down.

Naryn was far older than Bian, and far more dangerous. Skylur was out of communication, dealing with whatever problem had required him to rush down to LA. They’d have to live with any conflicts of authority Skylur had left.

Rather than let them build it any bigger than it was, I tried a diversion.

“If you don’t want me talking to the Empire, I have a good idea.”

They both looked at me.

“I make myself temporarily unavailable by going down to New Mexico to find Diana,” I said. “I need to anyway—”

“No!” Naryn said. “You’re barely under control as it is—”

“That’s exactly why I need to go there!”

A slight sign from Bian.
Enough.

“I’m not authorizing that.” Naryn ignored my interruption. “Diana went there with Skylur’s forbearance, not his permission. We know Matlal had a project to undermine House Romero—Correia told us that. Even if you were fully through crusis, while we still have no idea of the outcome, you can’t just walk into potentially hostile territory.”

“No potential about it. If Romero were still in control, they would have contacted us.” Bian said. “No reports, no responses to our messages, nothing. After his message supporting the Basilikos arguments at the Assembly, I believe Jaworski’s turned traitor and New Mexico is now Basilikos.”

I frowned. Jaworski was an asshole, all right, but Diana hadn’t thought he was a traitor.

So much for a diversion. They’d just found something else to argue about. At least it kept Naryn from baiting me.

I tried to break in again. “I could be in and out without Romero realizing it.”

Naryn snorted and jerked his thumb at the screens behind him. “Those facial recognition systems? They were originally developed by Romero’s IT division. You wouldn’t even get out of the airport.”

He sat back, looking tired, and I found I had some sympathy for him. He’d been handed an impossible task, running the Haven HQ with no one but Bian and a handful of kin to help, and he was making the best he could out of it.

I was one of the things making it impossible. It wasn’t as if I didn’t have experience dealing with authority when I wasn’t in agreement—lots of that in the army—but I couldn’t seem to find a way with Naryn. I understood the testing he was trying to achieve with me, but in doing that, he’d lost sight of the full picture. And I worried he was edging close to making one of the worst mistakes of command—giving orders he should know couldn’t or wouldn’t be obeyed.

“In my opinion, Diana behaved irresponsibly,” he said, “but she’s powerful and respected in all Athanate communities. If she really does need help, it would be even more irresponsible of me to send anyone alone. Doubly so for you.” He stabbed a finger toward me. “And if she doesn’t need help, if she’s in the middle of some delicate negotiations, for instance, an uninvited intruder could ruin everything.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s not just that,” he said. “We’ve just gotten a message from House Cooper in Bozeman. That Confederation lieutenant, Iversen, you sent packing from Denver—the one who’s tasked with negotiating for the Confederation—he’s been flagged at Bozeman airport. He, and several others, were boarding a flight down to New Mexico.”

“They’re skipping Colorado?”

Naryn looked bleakly at me. “I doubt it. More likely setting up a pincer attack. But in any event, New Mexico combines an unknown and volatile Athanate situation with a hostile Were presence. No way I’m sending you down there.”

“I need to warn Felix about the Confederation.”

Naryn’s eyes hooded. “Yes. It’s appropriate and within our capabilities at the moment to
inform
him. It’d provide pressure on him to do a deal. You shouldn’t reveal that Haven is empty, while talking to him about our lack of resources.”

There was silence for a minute. Every topic I’d brought up seemed to open another argument, so I waited it out.