Moonlight: The Big Bad Wolf (Black Swan 4) (30 page)

She narrowed her eyes at that. "Devious, Grey. I agree that I will not talk about werewolves and will not reveal that I have been kidnapped by one."

"Romantically abducted."

She raised her chin. "Seriously? This is really your idea of romance?"

He smiled his wolfish smile that stopped her breath. "I'd love to hear your ideas about romance, Luna."

Turning toward the door she was thinking that she was probably only minutes away from telling him her ideas about romance. He was weakening her defenses with lightning speed and she hated that she was melting with so little effort on his part.

"Shouldn't we clean up this mess?"

He guided her toward the door. "Don't worry. Somebody will do it."

***

CHAPTER_14

Storm knocked on Monq's office door.

"Come in," he called. "Sir Storm! How good to see you."

Storm lingered at the threshold. "I brought a nickel for the jar."

Monq's expression changed to more serious. "Very well. Join me." He motioned for Storm to take one of the two chairs that faced each other. "Would you care for some sherry?"

Storm shook his head.

"What's troubling you?"

"My wife is pregnant."

"I've noticed that."

"She shouldn't even be showing yet, but it's looking like we'll have a baby really soon."

"I see. And you're feeling..."

Storm scrunched up his face. "I'm feeling feelings that I'm not used to feeling."

"I see. Any chance of narrowing that down?"

Storm splayed his fingers over his lap. "I don't think I want to say it."

"I see. Do you want me to guess?"

Storm nodded. His right leg was bouncing with nervous energy. "Okay."

"Are you feeling a little anxiety about becoming a father?"

Storm nodded.

"Are you feeling a little anxiety about becoming a father sooner than expected."

Storm nodded.

"Are you worried about your wife?"

Storm nodded.

"Because things are not going to be 'normal'?" He put 'normal' in air quotes.

Storm nodded.

"If I tell you that what you're feeling is perfectly normal for first time fathers and it would be no different even if everything was perfectly 'normal', would you believe me?"

Storm grinned and shook his head. "No."

"Nonetheless, it's a fact. Have you chosen names?"

Storm nodded and smiled. "I've teased Litha a lot about naming her Elora because it never fails to get a reaction that's just the cutest thing, but we're naming her Liberty Rose.

"Can you really imagine me raising a girl? How many thousands of things could go wrong with that?"

"Not as many as you think. I know something you don't."

"What?"

"You've already had years of practice being a father figure to B Team." Storm frowned a little at that, but Monq just smiled in the annoyingly beatific way of wise men. "Liberty Rose. An excellent choice for a little girl who is certain to be beautiful as her name. You plan to call her Libby?" Monq noticed that Storm had stopped fidgeting and looked more relaxed.

"Rosie," Storm said shaking his head. "After Litha's mother."

"Well, my suggestion is that you spend as much time as you can with your wife. When Rosie enters the picture, your lives will never be the same again."

Storm nodded and stood. "Thank you." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a nickel. "Here you go."

"Just leave it in the jar."

Jefferson Unit was buzzing from top to bottom after announcements were made concerning temporary reassignments, but nothing was more gossip-worthy than the impending arrival of the infamous Z Team, a.k.a. Zed Company.

Sol wanted to be sure that most of the active duty knights had already been transferred ahead of time or trouble was sure to follow. Z boys and trouble were like bees and honey.

Even though they were anathema to people who appreciated some semblance of order, like Sol and Storm, the female personnel were eager to get a firsthand look and find out if they lived up to their reputation.

Ram had always said they weren't that bad. No one spent time wondering why he felt that way. Elora had never met them, but she'd heard enough to be okay with keeping the status quo.

The Order purchased and converted a hotel with a roof pad suitable for Whisters, installed the best security possible outside a no-fly zone, and moved the entire Paris unit and its personnel practically overnight. They outfitted a large, fully staffed med unit and prepared three entire floors to serve as halfway rehabilitation housing in the hope of finding and curing an unknown number of vampire virus victims.

Baka's offices and living quarters were furnished and ready for use when he arrived. On the same floor, lounge rooms were assigned to Jean Etienne and his boys, but they were free to come and go at will and probably wouldn't be around unless they appeared on the posted schedule.

The three teams of knights, who had been stationed in Paris before the new regime, were less than enthusiastic about the idea of working with host vampire. The three of those knights who were also Frenchmen were offended that the host vampire appeared to be
French
aliens. And spoiled at that.

Heaven had been reassigned to Baka's team. No one could possibly be more useful to vampire hunting than a person who could call them at will by playing a musical instrument. She was ecstatic to join Baka for a Parisian honeymoon, even if his mind was sometimes preoccupied with the search they were undertaking. When she left Edinburgh what she had in mind was romantic dinners, walks along the Seine, and the intense scratching of mutual itches.

There wasn't going to be as much of that as she would have liked, but she understood her new husband's level of commitment and the paramount importance of the work. There was no doubt in her mind that he was the best choice for the job. Who else could present a resume with a bullet point reading, "Double Ex-Vampire"?

The main thing was that there were times when she did have his undivided attention.

Baka spoke flawless French, as he should since he'd had centuries of intermittent practice. He could speak modern conversational French, as well as the provincial, medieval dialect spoken by the teenage immortals.

Heaven had been exposed to a smattering of French, but she lacked both an interest in the subject and an ear for languages. So the effort she made was a constant source of entertainment for Baka. He thoroughly enjoyed teasing her about ridiculous sentence construction and endless pronunciation goofs. She didn't resent the fact that he laughed openly and often at her expense. Her philosophy was that, if anyone in the world deserved a new collection of happy moments, it was her gorgeous husband. When she was privileged to be the source of that happiness, it gave her a natural high that would be worth billions if it could be bottled or reduced to a pill.

The young vampire on Baka's team continued to behave like college kids on Spring Break, but Jean Etienne took the mission very seriously and could corral them into focus for brief periods of time. Hopefully, that was all that would be necessary.

They had already mapped the underground, both modern and the historical unimproved, and had decided the best plan of attack would be to split the available assets into three groups. Each of the Parisian teams would be assigned two additional members. One would get Jean Etienne and the charge he thought least likely to be trusted on his own. One would get Baka and Javier. And the last would be assigned the remaining two vampire even though the prospect made Baka crazy trying to anticipate all the things that could go wrong with that.

Jean Etienne had assured him that he would regale the boys with sufficient lectures to ensure they behaved themselves even when he was out of sight. Baka hoped J.E. had as much respect and authority as he thought he did. Since the host vampire were not compelled to assist for any reason other than their own self-imposed sense of duty and responsibility, The Order was, in that instance, beggar and not chooser. In other words, they would take what they could get and be grateful for whatever it was.

In a decision that Storm thought was particularly sadistic and utterly uncalled for, Sol decided to begin Phase Two of Glen's test by dispatching him to tell Z Team, in person, that they were transferring to Jefferson Unit. Further, he was to escort them back.

The Fates must have been busier than usual because it happened that Z Team was not in Marrakesh. Torn's father had died, expectedly, and the entire team had been given a four day leave to go to Ireland with Torn.

The three other members of the team were Americans who had a history of raising Cain with Torn since they were teenagers. Undoubtedly the dynamic had a hand in shaping the path and personality of each of the four individuals who molded themselves into a group, or team, that could - when necessary - think and act as one.

Torrent Finngarick had escaped his old man and the tiny town of Dunkilly when he was recruited by Black Swan at thirteen. He was one of the rare exceptions to the second son rule. Circumstances had artificially created the environment necessary to instill the seeds of knighthood even though he was an only child. His da had been a widower who couldn't manage his whiskey or his strong-willed boy.

Torrent was dismissed by the community as being Mick Finn's ne'er-do-well kid. He was disliked by his teachers because he made their day harder and longer than it would have been otherwise. Neighbors would have said he was a list of undesirable traits. He was no good. He was a troublemaker. He was smarter than a person should be and, worst of all, he was a terrible influence. The other boys admired him, wanted to be like him, and would jump off a roof if he said they should.

Someone in Dunkilly might have come forward, taken an interest, and tried to channel all that raw talent and energy in the right direction. But no one did. Until Black Swan stepped in.

Anybody could see he had that one special thing that separated Black Swan knights. It was a quality that defied definition, but might best be described as fire. The entire world was a better place because kids like Torrent Finngarick, who found their way to Black Swan, sometimes grew up to be the kind of person who would willingly walk into the unknown, knowing he might not come back. The irony is that the sort of kid who may grow up to save the world often gets kicked to the curb early on.

As it turned out, Torn was hard to handle even for Order personnel who were trained in the care and development of Black Swan knights.

When the boy left the little fishing town, nobody grabbed a kerchief to dry a tear. Not even his father. Truthfully, the arrangement had worked out for the best for both of them. So Mick Finngarick's wake was not a solemn occasion. Not for his son or for anyone else.

Twelve years later, nobody in Dunkilly was surprised to see young Finngarick turn up with a nickname like "Torn" and friends who looked like hard-core biker mafia. They were, however, surprised that he arrived on a Whister that landed in a goat pasture. He stepped out with three boyos every bit as large, strange, and colorful as he, strapping duffels over their big shoulders and looking for all the world like they owned it. Dunkilly residents were surprised that Torn had enough money to buy the entire town drinks for three days and not miss any of it.

The proprietor of the pub that faced the harbor was happy to stage the wake there since the event's patron assumed responsibility for the tab. Torn paid some of the old women in the town to dress in black and watch over the body's soul at night so that it wouldn't be snatched away early by spirits. He brought in musicians from Donegal and Derry to give the wake a lively, celebratory atmosphere. He gave the funeral director enough money to get a suit for the body and gave the church an honorarium to bury him, buy a stone marker, and say some words.

Torn knew he didn't owe the fucker all that much for having contributed his sperm and his name, but when the three days were over, he would leave Dunkilly and return to Marrakesh. He would never be back and would never give the deceased another thought because he would know in his heart that he'd done more than he should.

He dragged the rest of Zed Company along with him not because he needed emotional support, but because he wouldn't want them to hear later that he had picked up the tab for a three day Irish Malt bender and hadn't included them. Besides, he knew they could use a change of scenery. Anything can get old after awhile. Even hash and belly dancing.

Planning Glen's travel wasn't much of a challenge for Farnsworth. She wouldn't even consider it a particularly complicated itinerary. Glen was dropped in the same goat pasture where Z Team had been dumped two days before. The idiot pilot, whom Glen had "worked with" on the Lady Laiken's rescue, pointed him toward the harbor as he silently lifted away.