Reflected (Silver Series) (32 page)

John looked over at her and lifted his hand to indicate the phone he was holding. Enrique’s, she realized after a beat. “Those e-mails Tom said he was talking about, they’re clearly fake, don’t worry. It’s all there in the headers, if you look.”

Felicia looked down at her plate and fought off an impulse to renewed tears. She hadn’t even thought of that. John worked with software, so of course he’d have some secret way to tell an e-mail was faked. She nodded her gratitude and retreated with her food.

“—better call Raul now,” her father said as he passed her in the hall, probably heading for the basement.

Felicia dropped the bones from her current wing on the side of the plate and ducked into the dining room to slide it onto the table. “Wait.” She hurried to catch up with her father, ignoring the way her voice tightened. It didn’t matter if she didn’t want to do this, if she wanted to go hide in bed with the covers over her head. She needed to help clean up the mess she’d made. “Madrid already knows if he tangles with you, he loses. That’s why he waited to get me alone. I need to call, so he knows he can’t get to me either.”

Her father stopped and frowned. “One could argue that this is a matter between alphas. One of his people attacked one of mine.”

Felicia’s words tumbled over each other as she hurried to get them out. She knew that phrase. “One could argue” meant that her father was still open to hearing other options, if presented logically enough. Maybe he’d even thought of the same thing that had just occurred to her.

“But that’s big. Big, nasty political shit. I could talk to him…” Felicia had to scrabble to find a way to say it that wouldn’t hurt her father. “Because he used to be my alpha.” Because he’d helped raise her. “And then it wouldn’t be political, just a personal insult.”

Her father cupped the corner of her jaw so he could examine her face better. “Only if you’re up to it.”

“I have to be.” Felicia pulled away and headed down to the basement before he could object to her less than enthusiastic tone, but her father smelled like approval when he caught up to her. It helped her feel more balanced. Slightly.

She’d hoped it might be better, seeing Enrique once he was healed, but she remembered what he’d looked like before, and her mind filled it in. They’d zip-tied him to a kitchen chair from the basement’s collection of mismatched and worn-out furniture. There was a chain used for troublemakers set in the wall, but Felicia supposed they didn’t plan to keep him that long.

He dozed now. His skin was unbroken, but his color was bad, meaning he’d eaten, but healing was still underway. His hair and clothes were damp from when they’d sluiced off the worst of the blood. He’d set himself braced and ready for action, but his head lolled forward. He probably hadn’t meant to sleep, but his body had ambushed him regardless.

Her father handed her Enrique’s phone, then stood close, probably so she could lean against him if she wanted. She placed herself squarely in front of Enrique, alone, and dialed Madrid. She could do this. She needed to do this.

“What’s gone wrong now?”

Hearing her former alpha’s voice again after three years made Felicia’s voice weaken, made her hesitate. She gritted her teeth.
“Madrid. I wondered which piece of Enrique you wanted back.”

Madrid was silent for several breaths. She wondered what it was like for him hearing
her
voice after so long. She continued while her courage lasted.
“I’m earning my own money now, and shipping a whole body is Lady-damned expensive. He did bring me Blanca, I appreciate that, so I figure that should at least be worth a finger for you to remember him by.”

“Felicia. You didn’t really kill him.”
Madrid’s voice grew coaxing. He was good at that, sounding kind and reasonable when he wanted to.

Felicia swallowed and closed her eyes.
“I would have, if Silver hadn’t stopped me. If Papa was the Butcher of Barcelona, I’m the Butcher’s Daughter. I didn’t mean to, but…”
She swallowed.
“Think about that before you push me again.”
She supposed that sounded like grandstanding, but every word was true, and Madrid must have heard that in her voice. His silence this time was resounding.

Felicia handed the phone off to her father and went back upstairs, arms hugged tightly across her belly. No more. She needed to hide from it again. She heard her father speaking as she jogged up the stairs, but she didn’t turn around.

“Raul. The only direct flight in the next twenty-four hours is into Barcelona, and I’m not going to do that to the boy, with Death’s toothmarks in his voice. Who are you on speaking terms with in Europe for him to connect through? Is there anyone at the moment?”

Felicia shut the basement door and went to collect her plate of wings to eat in the privacy of her room. That way, she wouldn’t run into Tom or have to see the way everyone looked at her.

22

Silver ate, washed, let her scratch be fussed over, and found that Dare was still dealing with the roamer. She would have gone to their room to wait for him, but Death seemed to be expecting something else to happen. He planted himself by the entrance to the den and waited pointedly. Silver sighed, took the hint, and joined him in waiting there instead.

That’s where Tom found them. He was leaving with a load, much of which smelled like food. On seeing her, he hesitated, but his expression hardened into deeper resolve. “I can’t … deal with this right now. I have a couple of friends over in the Billings pack, I might stay with them, or my parents in the Boston pack if I have to.”

“Boston would be happy to have you visit, I am sure.” Silver smiled, very small, at Tom’s confusion. In the plan of the hunt he’d laid out in his mind, clearly this was the time for her to protest, to forbid him to go. But better he not be around to have truths said to him so often that by the time he was ready to listen, they had lost all power. He could go now and later find his own way to the truths, so they’d reach his core. Then hopefully he’d return, for Felicia’s sake.

Silver hugged him, and some of his confusion melted away into mock exasperation, hiding gratitude for the gesture. “Talk to Dare. At a distance, I mean,” she told him. “When you’re ready. I think he can help. Or me.” Not that she thought her particular perspective would be of much use to the young man, but you never knew.

Tom kissed her cheek. “You hate talking at a distance,” he reminded her. He squeezed her in a last hug and then slipped out of the den.

His departure was not quite so easy, however. A few moments later, Tom reappeared and dumped a load of cat-scented things and the cat itself in its container inside the den. “Forgot her Lady-abandoned animal.” Then he was gone for good.

The box rocked and yowled. Silver bent and opened it before she thought too hard and forgot the trick of it. A purple-gray head popped up and a purple-gray body followed it in a great bound.

“You sure about that?” Silver said, eyebrows raised. She stayed crouched where she was to avoid sending the cat skittering off farther into the den. “Felicia’s not in much shape to be championing you at the moment, little Morsel.”

Death extended his nose in a casual sniff of the beast. “Half morsel, more like.”

The cat puffed itself up all over, tail transformed into one long bristle. It swiped a paw at Death’s nose. Death jerked his head back in shock and growled on a low note that seemed to loosen one’s voice. The cat shrieked and jumped almost straight sideways. Then it seemed to notice the twitching tip of its own tail, and jumped just as violently away from that. It streaked off into the den.

Silver laughed. She laughed until tears came into her eyes and Death glared with eyes that seemed to be facing straight onto the void. “I like you, Morsel.” Silver followed its trail and found the cat cowered under a seat. She pulled it out and held it close. It was very warm, with silkier fur than most wild selves.

“Disrespectful,” Death said, chilly, from by her feet.

“A cat can look at an alpha,” Silver quoted, and then grinned at Death. “Provided it can run fast enough afterward.” The cat rumbled a tentative little purr, and the noise strengthened when she ruffled its ears.

She took it up to their bedroom and let it dart under the bed. Death took himself off, so she waited for Dare alone.

When Dare entered, Morsel streaked back out again, past his feet. He followed its path with his gaze and then looked back at Silver. “A cat.”

“Felicia’s cat. Its name is Morsel.” Silver smoothed the bedding. “I rather fancy keeping it. It sassed Death, I think.”

“Did it?” Now Dare’s eyebrows went up. He flopped down beside her. Silver had meant to ask him about the child in Alaska, ask him about where he’d sent the roamer, about how Felicia was, but his scent insinuated itself under and around those things until it filled her up and she forgot them for the moment.

She leaned over and kissed him like she could steal all his heat for herself. He kissed back, fingers lacing into her hair, lulling her until the moment he rolled away, laughing. They tumbled until she caught him again, ground her hips against his. He slid his arms over her lower back and held her tight against him, too tight to arch as she wanted. He grinned as she groaned in frustration and nipped at the side of her neck. She allowed it, lulling him in turn, and then writhed so the sensation she created made him loosen his grip, distracted. She grinned and claimed another kiss.

He’d mentioned plenty of plans the last time they’d talked, but none of them got used this time, when she was injured and their intensity was better matched by simplicity. Afterward, Silver pressed close to him and felt relaxed for the first time since Portland had arrived. Things were far from settled, but at least she could see their destination now, if not the exact route to it.

First, she told him everything that had happened since they last spoke. Knowing what she did now threw the underlying logic behind Felicia’s behavior into sharper relief. Dare growled in agreement when she mentioned her conclusions about the roamer.

“Felicia told me she lied about knowing him at first because she thought she could convince him to break with Madrid and stay in North America. I’d never thought about it, but of course she’d want to save the others if she got a chance. I could have told her it would never work. She encountered direct evidence contradicting the lies Madrid told her. That kind of evidence doesn’t exist for those Enrique’s been fed.” Dare blew out a frustrated breath.

“But how could you know that it would come up?” Silver petted her mate’s hair, smoothing the white lock at the temple she could reach. “If we predicted every problem, Death would have nothing left to be smug about.”

Death growled. Silver looked up, because she hadn’t heard him come back in. He still looked greatly put out by the cat. “And the child, in Alaska?” she asked.

“I did some calling, and I found a splinter couple in Maine who were willing to move out. Having a little privacy suited them, and they can always run with the Alaskans if they get lonely.” Dare pulled a face, and Silver gathered he was still getting over his experience with the Alaskans. “It’s not forever, anyway. Just until the child would normally move away from home, and then he can visit his biological mother as much or as little as he wants.”

“Good.” Silver brought up his hand and kissed his knuckles. “We’re not done yet, down here. Portland’s beta and sister are still hanging around, and there’s Felicia and Tom to worry about, now Tom’s run off to stay with friends or family.”

“Has he?” Dare’s scent clouded with concern. “I suppose it’s for the best. He sounded like his voice had been pretty thoroughly ground into the dirt. He probably feels that even if Felicia lied to everyone else, she could have confided in him.”

“Stop whining. He’ll be back,” Death said, sighed, and went to sleep.

“And what about you?” Dare pushed himself sitting and traced the lines of her face, smoothed her hair. “Are you all right, Silver? More than physically.” He touched her side, fingers light over the bandage there. Their exercise had given it only the faintest ghost of a brown line.

Silver drew in a slightly hitched breath. “I’ve been better.” She sat up too and tucked her toes under Dare’s wild self to keep them warm. “Felicia was not particularly kind to me, either, except that I’m too mature to sulk about it.” Now she allowed herself to think about it, frustration knotted up her voice.

“I’m sorry.” Dare pulled her against his chest, and Silver took the words the way his tone suggested: sympathy, not responsibility. “I can talk to them about the trespassing, see if I can persuade them to drop it. And if you sulk to me, I promise not to tell anyone.”

Silver exhaled on a note of weak laughter. “I think we can safely say she’s learned her lesson. Just promise me I don’t have to call up the memories again anytime soon.” That, Silver still shied away from thinking too hard about. “It hurt.”

“Promise.” Dare pressed a kiss to her forehead to seal the promise. He lay back down again, and Silver curled up beside him. They drifted off together.

23

Felicia glowered at the bushes outside the kitchen window as the impersonal voice of Tom’s voice mailbox told her to leave a message after the tone. Why wouldn’t he pick up? It had been four days, and he hadn’t answered a single one of her calls. She’d left him a couple messages already, so he had to know she was calling to apologize.

The tone sounded. “Hi, Tom, I don’t really know what to say, but I’m so sorry—”

Her father jerked the phone out of her hand as he passed and thumbed End Call . “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to confiscate this.”

Felicia stared at him. What in the Lady’s name was that about? “What?”

Her father offered her phone back. “Leave him
alone,
Felicia. That’s an order from your Roanoke, not a suggestion.”

Sheer frustration started tears in Felicia’s eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. She jerked the phone out of his hand. Lady, she hated when her father meddled sometimes. “I need to
apologize.
”