Howling Moon (25 page)

Raphael wandered the
national forest lands in wolf form, halfheartedly chasing down a rabbit when he grew hungry. He neither knew, nor cared, how many hours passed. Most wolves craved the pack when in pain. Right now, Raphael needed solitude.

They’d betrayed him. They’d known he was training the cat, had agreed to allow her in their territory, but they’d gone against his wishes and deliberately plotted Cat’s death.

They were of his pack. He’d known them for years. Two of them he’d even liked. Corrine was a bitch, of course, in every sense of the word. But she’d been beautiful, fun, and funny. It hadn’t been a hardship when they’d asked him to try to get her with puppies for the breeding program. They’d gone through her pregnancy together, and he’d held her when she cried all night after having to give the twins up for adoption.

I
had no choice. It was premeditated murder.

If he hadn’t been tied to Cat, both she and Holly would likely be dead now, and possibly him as well. He was mated. If he’d had any doubts about it before, they were gone now. Telepathy might enable him to talk mind-to-mind, with effort. But he’d seen through her eyes,
felt
what she’d been feeling. Just by turning his thoughts to her he
knew
where she was, what she was doing, and it was taking a serious effort to keep her from doing the same.

He regretted the necessity of killing his pack mates. But he’d do it again. He’d kill anyone who threatened her. He couldn’t help himself. Which made the challenge infinitely tricky. Because he knew Michael was a threat to her. The boy was unstable. Best of intentions aside, Raphael wasn’t entirely sure he had enough self-control in the heat of battle
not
to slay him. It wouldn’t take much. The boy was big and strong, but slow. And he was barely alphic. If he’d had more magic he wouldn’t have been
able
to get drunk, and they wouldn’t have had the problem on their hands in the first place.

It was a mess, personally and politically. Raphael had never had many friends. Lucas was very dear to him. He didn’t want to hurt Lucas’s son, let alone kill him. Could he manage enough self-control not to do the very thing he’d just done to Corrine? Charles had been right. His best skill was to kill by touch. Only a very few Sazi had such a horrific “gift,” and he wasn’t sure he was strong enough
not
to use it in a challenge.

Raphael looked up at the sky. The sun was well into the west. He needed to check on his niece, and call Lucas to cancel their dinner. If the old man was pissed, so be it. Raphael just wasn’t up to appearing in public tonight; wasn’t up to looking at Tatya across the table and wondering if she’d had a hand in the attack, if she’d known.

He was closer to home than pack headquarters at this point. He might as well head there. It would give him a chance to thank Raven and Emma, and apologize for leaving them with the mess.

It never got easier, killing with his gift. Always, it made him feel dirty. It was so much cleaner, to his mind, to just shoot someone, or kill him with teeth and claws than to simply drain away the very energy of his life, everything that made him who he was, and let it spill onto the ground until there was nothing left to animate the physical shell and his heart and brain just stopped.

He stood at the top of a rise, the chill north wind ruffling his thick black fur. Raising his muzzle, he howled long and loud – giving voice to the pain, hurt, and frustration that haunted him. The sound echoed from the rock walls of the unfeeling canyon. As the last echoes died he picked his way over the uneven ground and began the long trek home.

It was full dark by the time he padded up the front drive, his breath misting in the frigid air. The front porch lights were on, but the Hummer wasn’t parked in the driveway. A gray SUV with rental plates had taken its place. The driver, oblivious to the cold, had made himself comfortable on the front porch, sitting stretched out in one of the chairs in shirt sleeves with a case of beer within comfortable reach.

Raphael felt some of his depression lift. Ivan Kruskenik was probably the last person he would have expected to see, but the Siberian bear was a most welcome guest. The big man was one of the few people Raphael considered a true friend. They’d been partnered for a while back in their Wolven days after his best friend, Greg, had died in action. It was Ivan who’d discovered and reported Jack’s plans to kill Raphael. It had cost him his career. Charles had tapped him for the Chief Justice’s Private Guard, but that wasn’t the same thing. Not by a long shot. Still, Ivan seemed content with his choice.

“Been waiting long?” Raphael stepped up onto the porch. He slipped into his human form and took the Corona and a pair of jeans from Ivan’s hand, slipped them on, and then settled himself comfortably against the nearest railing after brushing off the snow. He twisted the cap off of his beer and took a long pull, savoring the taste.

“Nyet.” Ivan gave a crooked grin and lifted his own bottle. “Only about two beers’ worth. It was kind of nice, really. Peaceful. Nice place. You’ve got a great view.” He gestured at the sunset with one meaty hand.

“Thanks. To what do I owe the honor?”

“I understand that you’ve moved up in the world – I brought you a gift, and both an apology and a request from Charles.” He grinned. “Officially, I’ve come to ask the alpha of the Boulder pack for permission to spend some time in his territory.”

“Granted, of course.”

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

“I know better.” Raphael drained the bottle. Bending down, he slid it into its slot in the carton and pulled out a replacement for each of them. “You’re welcome to the guest room,” he suggested as he passed the bottle over.

“I appreciate the offer, but no.” Ivan twisted off the lid and raised the bottle in salute. “I’ve a great deal to do. I’ll be pressed for time as it is.”

“Ah.”

Ivan laughed, his eyes darkening with merriment. He ran a hand over his bare scalp. “You’ve grown up, wolf. There was a time when you’d have pestered me with questions.”

Raphael shrugged. “Happens to all of us sooner or later.” Grinning, he took a sip from the bottle. “I
do
wonder what happened to that British accent I’ve heard you using the past couple of years.”

“That is for acquaintances and business.
Not
for friends.” Ivan’s smile faded, his face growing serious. He very deliberately steered the conversation back to its original course, which meant there was something important he wanted to say. “It’s a hard thing to watch sometimes, the growing up.” He took a long pull of beer. Raphael waited. Ivan had always been like this. He passed on information in his own way, in his own time. Perhaps all bears were the same. Raphael didn’t know. He’d only ever met two of the ursines.

“I’ve known Catherine Turner since three days after she was born. Her father, Chris Turner, was one of the most brilliant minds of this, or any, time. The Turner computer empire was poised to take over the computing world. Socially, however, he was completely inept. Savant really. Janet, her mother, was intelligent, not in his class of course, but in her own way quite as brilliant as she was beautiful. She was also ruthless enough to put Fiona to shame.”

Raphael blinked in shock.
Nobody
was more ruthless than Fiona.

“Catherine inherited more than her father’s brain and her mother’s looks.” Raphael felt Ivan watching him as the implications of that last statement struck home.

“She has presented Charles with a workable plan for eliminating the file and taking down Jack Simpson. Charles is going to move for a warrant at the next council meeting.” He took another swig from the beer bottle and leaned back far enough that the wood of his chair groaned in protest. “He’s also moving for her to keep the land she purchased. It’ll be fenced off so that nothing short of a raptor is going to be able to get in.” Ivan sighed. “Charles told me to let you know that he realizes that this – the attack on Catherine and your niece – is not your fault, but while he can’t truly protect her from Jack, he
will
see to it she’s safe from the pack.” He shook his massive head. “I have never seen him so angry, Ramirez. If it were anyone other than you I think he might well have revoked the charter.”

Raphael cringed. Losing a charter meant that a pack was disgraced, its members forced to scatter throughout the world, wherever anyone would take them. “I’m not sure it was the entire pack.”

“No.” Ivan spoke with certainty. “It wasn’t.” He gave Raphael a long, level look. “The Chief Justice asked me to give you his most sincere apology. He realizes that you are perfectly capable of disciplining your own pack, and asks that you forgive him for usurping that authority and executing Claire Hamilton, Lucas’s secretary, for her part in the plot against his goddaughter. He meant no insult. He lost his temper.”

Raphael only just managed not to choke on his beer.

“I am supposed to report to you regarding everything we learned as a result of his questioning.” Ivan took a pull from his beer. “Believe me, he was morough. There is no doubt about me veracity of the information obtained.”

Raphael felt the heat radiating from Ivan. The other man was wearing Wolven cologne, so there was no scent, but he couldn’t keep his power from flaring with his anger.

“The plot originated with her. Betty Perdue breached medical ethics and told Tatya that you had an appointment for testing for a possible mating, but that she was already certain of the conclusion of the tests. Tatya, in turn, revealed the information to Claire. It seems,” Ivan said dryly, “that she was concerned you might not be able to control yourself during this ‘mating challenge’ with her son and the boy would be killed.”

Raphael remained silent. He was mulling me implications. Mike was mated, but Cat hadn’t slept with him. There was a good chance he’d survive her death. With enough counseling he might even get over her eventually. With Cat dead, mere was no mating challenge. Michael’s peccadillo would be moot. There was no question in his mind that the pack would consider Mike’s life more valuable than Cat’s, more valuable than his own if it came to it. They’d known he was mated to her. They’d known he might die. Maybe they’d believed he wouldn’t. More likely they hadn’t cared.

“The Chief Justice told me to tell you that in reparation to you in this, he is going to override the council’s order binding you to the Boulder territory. If and when you choose to leave, you will be free to go where you will.”

“Thank him for me. I wouldn’t have claimed the damages, but I won’t refuse the gift.”

“You’d be a fool if you did. While you are many things, you are
not
a fool.”

“Don’t be so sure. I’m feeling pretty damned stupid right now. How could I not have seen that it was this bad?”

Ivan laughed. “Love makes fools of us all, and mating more so.” He reached past Raphael to slide his newly empty beer bottle into its slot, taking a full one in its place. “May I ask what you will do about this ‘challenge’ of yours?” There was a hint of reproach in the bear’s voice. It was obvious to Raphael that he didn’t approve.

“What do you want me to say, Ivan?” Raphael looked up then, felt the heat of anger flush his cheeks. “I don’t want this. I don’t want any of it. But I can’t just let Lucas’s son die. Santiago’s my friend, and God knows I don’t have many.”

“Maybe not so many,” Ivan agreed with a shrug. “But what you lack in quantity, you make up for in quality.” There was a twinkle in his eyes again. “Speaking as one of them.”

“Of course.”

“The Chief Justice further orders that you provide Catherine with all of the evidence you have gathered against Jack Simpson. I am also to give you a personal message from Charles, and I quote: ‘Break Catherine’s heart and I’ll make you wish you were never born.’” Ivan leaned forward, taking a long pull from the bottle before continuing. “I do hope that your intentions were honorable?” He made it a question, giving Raphael a hopeful look.

“They are now,” Raphael answered wryly.

“Oh, good.” Ivan smiled. “Because Charles isn’t the only one who’s fond of the woman.”

“I never would’ve guessed.”

Ivan laughed again at Raphael’s dry tone. “Why don’t we go inside? You can finish getting dressed and fix us dinner.
I
will bring in your presents.”