Demon Driven (19 page)

Afina raised one eyebrow and gave me a wicked
grin at Bryce’s words.

“Really, Gordon! You just got here!” she said
with a chuckle.

“Jeeze Mom! You’re such a perv!” Bryce
responded in disgust.

Werewolves have little modesty, something to
do with getting naked before changing, and wolves are an amorous
lot. Sex is considered very important to a healthy pack.
Consequently, young werewolves are remarkably blasé about the
topic. I wasn’t sure if I was more embarrassed at her comment or
that her nine year old son understood the joke.

Bryce’s greeting had garnered a degree of
notice among the Pack members nearby and as I held the squirming
eighty-pounder at arm’s length, I could
feel
them
reappraising me.

I’ve only met Bryce three times. Once in
Central Park, once at a joint vampire and were gathering in January
(to reestablish mutual goodwill between the Coven and the Pack),
and once when I was meeting Lydia and Gina after they had lunch
with Afina and her son.

Despite that limited amount of contact, Bryce
had decided I was both trustworthy and a friend. It was one of
those instant judgments that children are so good at making. Too
bad we tend to lose that skill as we age.

I squatted down to his level and reached in a
pocket, pulled something out and put both hands behind my back.
Finally, after making a production of shifting the unseen object
from hand to hand, I brought them both out in front of me, palms
down, fists clenched.

Black eyes looked at me from under black
bangs, as if to say,
C’mon, you gotta be kidding me!,
then
he shook his head and tapped my left hand, which of course, had the
soapstone wolf carving in it. I buy Zuni Indian fetishes by the box
and use them as protective talisman when I banish demons from a
home. This particular specimen was jet black, sitting with its ears
perked and its big teeth on display.

“Cool! Mom, look what Chris brought me!”

Then he was gone in a flat run to tug the
pants of a much larger, adult version of himself. That male
listened intently to his son’s comments, then lifted his head and
regarded me with predator’s eyes, before heading our way.

“Wow, is he always that energetic?” I
asked.

“He’s actually trying very hard to be calm
right now,” his mother replied with a sigh.

“Kids are a handful, huh?”

She laughed, her voice deep and rich. Afina
is tall and handsome, rather than pretty, but she is extremely
charismatic, as is her husband, who was rapidly closing the
distance to us with long strides.

“Actually, it’s the older ones that are more
trouble,” she said, just as her husband arrived.

Six-three, maybe six-four, two hundred twenty
pounds, with black hair and black eyes like his son, Brock Mallek
is built like a professional soccer player, albeit a bit more
muscular. He has an intense personality that can be felt when he
enters a room, even if you’re not looking in his direction.

“Chris!” he greeted me, his big mitt
completely enclosing my hand.

“You’ve managed to completely stir up my
pack, you know!” he accused, deadpan, before grinning to show he
wasn’t truly put out.

“Well, I’m honestly sorry about that sir,
just as I’m sorry I let the rogue bit the girl in the first place,”
I replied seriously.

Afina put a hand on my upper arm and
admonished her husband, “Brock Mallek! You are tickled to death by
our new addition and you know it!”

He turned his head to look across the room
and just snorted, but not before I had caught a wink.

I turned where he was looking and caught my
breath. The blonde across the room was obviously Stacia Reynolds,
but she looked quite a bit different than the scared girl I had
last seen.

Her hair was shorter, professionally styled,
shorter in the back, the cut angling down to hang on either side of
her face. She too was wearing a curve-hugging mini-dress, in blue,
which set off her tan skin and emerald green eyes. A small army of
males were hovering around her, all vying for her attention. Not
hard to understand that, as she was absolutely spectacular! She
looked poised and confident, comfortable with the testosterone
cloud that swirled about her. I hadn’t managed to look away when
she lifted her head and caught me staring. Her mouth curved in a
slight smile and she tucked one strand of hair behind her ear, then
turned her attention back to the were she was listening too.

“Cleans up pretty well, wouldn’t you say?”
Brock said.

“Yeah, I can, er… understand the upheaval!
Wow!”

Afina gave me another raised eyebrow, and I
remembered she was friends with the terrible twosome.

I quickly changed topics.

“But back to what you were saying….older kids
are more trouble?” I asked Afina, angling my body to keep from
glancing at the gorgeous blonde across the room.

Brock snorted again and shared a look with
his wife.

“Our oldest boy, Brett, is reaching an age
when young weres have trouble with their parents. He’s an Alpha
like his father and at twenty-one, he’s probably ready to set up a
pack and territory of his own,” she said.

“It’s not that we don’t want him to, it’s
just a terribly dangerous time for a young Alpha. Too old to stay,
too young to make all the right decisions,” Brock explained.

“Ideally, we need to find him a range nearby,
but not too close, where he can grow into his abilities and not be
killed in a challenge fight by an older wolf,” Afina said.

“How does he go about building a pack?” I
asked.

“Oh, he already has the framework of one. The
other Pack children that he has grown up with all look to him as
their leader. They’ve even gone so far as to present a plan, sort
of like a business plan,” Brock said.

“So the problem is one of … finding a place?”
It didn’t sound that difficult to me.

“It’s harder than it sounds,” Afina said.
“Too near the City and another older wolf might happen through and
challenge him for the pack. He’s a good fighter, but just
so
young!”

“So what are the requirements? City?
Wilderness?” I asked.

“Wilderness would be best, but they’ll need
some modern access too. They need to earn a living, establish a
territory, solidify their pack bonds and then attract new members,”
Brock said.

“What about the Adirondacks?” I asked.

“There are a few old wolves living back in
the mountains who might object to a pack of young wolves nearby,”
Afina said with a sigh.

“How about up by the border?” I asked, an
idea forming.

“What are you thinking, Chris?”

“St. Lawrence County. There are a couple of
colleges up there…SUNY Potsdam, Clarkson University, St. Lawrence
University. Decent infrastructure. How much land would they need?
Would six hundred acres do?” I asked.

They exchanged a glance.

“You know someone with land?” Brock
asked.

I nodded.

“Me! Well, my grandfather and I own an
abandoned farm on six hundred acres, which borders Gramps’ four
hundred-acre spread. I know he wants to rent the property. House is
a little dated, but in move-in condition.”

“Come on! Let’s get a map up and you can show
us!” Brock said.

“Show you what, Father?” a voice said.

I turned and looked up at a very tall young
man with auburn hair.

“Chris Gordon, meet our oldest son, Brett. Oh
and his mate, Kelly,” Afina said.

Brett was about six-five, leaner than his
father but carried himself in an identical manner. The young blonde
at his side was my height and muscled like a beach volleyball
player.

“Brett, we’ve told you about Chris, right?”
Afina asked.

“Hell, I’ve heard lots about you. My little
brother thinks you’re the best cop in the city!” Brett said, his
voice sincere.

“Brett, Chris was telling us about a piece of
land he owns up north that might be an option for you and the
others,” Brock explained.

“Where?”

“We’re going to pull it up on the conference
room monitor now,” his mother replied.

* * *

We filed into a glassed-in conference room
situated along one side of the big room. Looking at the layout, I
realized the room the party was in was another office space that
could support cubicles, but the wolves had either moved them or the
company hadn’t yet grown into the space.

Afina’s hands blurred across a wireless
keyboard as she brought up Google maps online. The flatscreen on
the end wall zoomed to the address I gave her, and suddenly my
grandfather’s farm and the adjoining property were revealed in
satellite image.

A couple of other wolves poked their heads
into the room, all young like Brett, and watched as I pointed out
the property lines and main farm structures on the big plasma
screen.

“So it has the one large main house, the main
barn with attached milk room, and an equipment barn. Currently the
south field is rented to another farmer for corn, and we were
considering planting several of the other fields in hay and selling
it for feed,” I explained.

“What do you think, Dad?” Brett asked, his
eyes gleaming with barely repressed excitement.

“I think it has possibilities. Chris, how
would your grandfather feel about this?” Brock asked.

I looked at my watch. Gramps and the hands
might be in for lunch.

“Let me try to call him and I’ll find out. I
assume you’ll want to drive up and see it?” I asked.

“Actually, we would
fly
up and see
it,” Brock corrected. “We have a company Cessna that’ll speed the
trip up considerably.”

I nodded, impressed, and moved outside the
room to call Gramps on my cell, wandering toward the buffet
table.

“Hello.”

“Hey, old man! How are my dogs?” I asked in
greeting.

“Your dogs! I’m the one what feeds ’em and
takes care of the mangy curs. What’s up?

“I have a lead on renters for the Bennington
place!” I said.

“You don’t say? Tell me about them.”

I gave him the rundown on Mallek and company,
at least as much as I knew, and explained that we would need to
come up and look it over, provided he had no objections to their
unique nature. In typical Gramps fashion he went quiet, processing
the information. I knew better than to interrupt his train of
thought, so I looked around the big room full of weres.

Of the roughly 300 people present, the
majority belonged to the Pack, but I saw three really big, burly
men across the room that I thought might be werebears. Another
group was all lean and rangy, could possibly be cats, four of them.
In the corner, farthest from everyone else: a group of thin,
pointed feature individuals who had to be of the weasel clan. I
shuddered looking at them. I don’t like wereweasels – bad
memories.

“Long as they mind the cattle, I think we
might be able to adjust. You trust ‘em?” Gramps finally said.

“Yeah, Gramps, at least the leader and his
family. But we would come up and check it out and you could make up
your own mind,” I said.

“Well, let me know when you all are coming up
and I’ll be ready. They all right staying here or they got fancy
needs?”

“If they need fancy, they won’t want the
property. Speaking of which, can you email me some photos of the
house and barns?”

“Actually got a memory card full of photos
already. Been placing some ads, but times are tough and I haven’t
had so much as a nibble!”

We said goodbye and hung up. I moved back
into the conference room where the Malleks were in deep
conversation, some of the young observers joining in. They all went
silent and looked my way.

Let me tell you, it’s a little unnerving to
have the complete attention of seven werewolves at once. I kept my
expression blank even as I shoved the black monster inside back
into its cell.
It
wasn’t impressed.

“He’s okay with the concept. He’ll need to
meet you of course, but we’re welcome to stay with him and see the
property at a moment’s notice. He’s also going to send photos of
the house and barns,” I said, directing that comment mainly to the
women. My phone chirped with an incoming text. It was Gramps
telling me he had sent the photos to my email.

“Can I sign on to my email? He’s already sent
the photos,”

“Works fast, your grandfather does, or is he
desperate to rent?” Brock noted, a predatory gleam in his eyes. But
it was the gleam every successful businessman gets when he senses a
weakness.

I snorted, “He doesn’t need the rent, or even
to farm for that matter. But he hates waste and he’s
very
efficient,” I said, opening the first photo on the wall
monitor.

I found myself moved away from the keyboard
by a wave of estrogen as Afina and Kelly took control.

They asked questions as photos flipped
by.

“We would, of course,
have
to redo
most of the interior!” Kelly said a little scornfully.

“Yeah, the Benningtons never updated. Not a
lot of free money for small dairy farmers,”

“Chris, would your grandfather consider
selling the property?” Brock asked, before Kelly could continue in
her derisive tone.

“Possibly…down the road. I think he would
want to get a good feel for his neighbors first. That’s part of the
reason we bought the property. Control,” I said.

He nodded, control being a concept that Alpha
wolves understood at a genetic level.

Turning back to the women, I addressed a
concern I had with Kelly’s response.

“You need to understand that St. Lawrence
County is as far from New York City as you can get in all ways. The
services you take for granted are nowhere near as plentiful, much
less in the way of shopping, and…..” I trailed off, Afina’s cold
look and Kelly’s glare effectively stealing my words.