Silver (17 page)

Silver sipped her drink, lips curving in their press against the glass. “You’re very scary,” she teased. Andrew blandly raised his eyebrows at her and she laughed outright, then sobered. “It would go better if they weren’t afraid of you.”

Andrew slumped back in his chair. Wasn’t that the heart of the matter? “I wish they weren’t, but if wishes were rabbits, everyone would feast. It wasn’t anything I planned, it was a side effect.”

“Because of those you killed?”

Andrew clenched his jaw. “Mostly, yes. And the fact that no one likes an enforcer.”

“Because it’s his job to carry out punishments.” Silver’s lips twisted as she said it, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to think about it.

“Someone had to. Rory probably … couldn’t have kept Roanoke together without me. I don’t know what he’s going to do now.” He tapped the cutlery napkin roll against the table. He couldn’t afford to worry about that at the moment. After he’d found the killer, and after he’d extricated himself from the West without permanent injury. Then he could think about that.

Silver reached out to still the fidgeting. “I do understand,” she said with a half smile. “But you’re not an enforcer now. Stop expecting that they will fear you, and maybe they won’t.”

Andrew looked down at her hand over his. “Easier said than done, even if you’re right.” She probably was. He was learning to trust Silver’s instincts about pack dynamics. It was as if her twisted perspective on the outer world made her see inside people more clearly.

When the waitress returned to take their orders, Silver saved him from further server censure by pointing to one of the large, bright pictures decorating the menu’s side. The parents and their little girl left, and Silver and Andrew ate in silence.

When they arrived at the pack house and rang the doorbell, no one answered for some time. Andrew frowned. They knew he was here. They would have heard him drive up, smelled him at the door. His first thought was that John was trying to avoid the fight, but that made no sense. No one but Andrew knew what he’d planned. What else was going on?

Finally, the door opened. Pierce glowered at them. “John’s out for the moment.” He wore only pants and was unshaved, his hair still tousled from sleep. Andrew could smell other Were in the house, but they must have nominated the beta to deal with him. Everyone else was keeping out of sight. Andrew almost smirked when he noticed Pierce’s nose was still crooked. He caught the expression before it formed. Unprofessional, especially since he might have to work closely with Pierce soon.

But where was John? Andrew thought back to Michelle’s words about the alpha’s strange behavior. John had read so straightforward in person, it was hard for Andrew to believe that he would be in on anything. But what was going on, then? John had to have known that Andrew would be back the next morning, so he was either trying to be rude, or whatever was going on was so important it couldn’t be put off until another time.

It probably had nothing to do with Silver or her pack’s killer, of course. It could be perfectly innocent. And yet the small suspicious voice at the back of Andrew’s mind was hard to squash. “I’ll wait,” Andrew told Pierce. Wait, and try to get some information from the beta.

Pierce started to shut the door in their faces. They would wait outside in the alpha’s absence, apparently. Silver put her hand on the jamb so he had to stop or smash her fingers. “Can I at least get some breakfast?” Andrew couldn’t see her expression, but her body language was one pathetic droop. He’d watched her eat not fifteen minutes ago, and the protective instincts he felt around low-ranked Were stirred anyway.

Pierce’s face softened and he opened the door to usher her inside. He glared at Andrew as he invited himself along behind but didn’t object. Andrew kept his head down to hide his smile. Well played, Silver.

Pierce strode ahead to reach the kitchen first, where he rummaged around and handed Silver a huge chocolate muffin from a multipack on top of the fridge. He watched solicitously as she devoured it.

As he entered the kitchen, Andrew sniffed, trying to find anything unusual or something that had changed since the day before. Under the cleaning products it was just a lot of Were, some male, some female, some children, all mixed with the scent of the human woman. No accounting for taste. If something was out of place here, he couldn’t tell without knowing every pack member by scent.

“How long do you think John’ll be?” Andrew asked. Pierce’s shoulders set, and he remained silent. Andrew drew in a deeper breath of the man’s scent. If he wanted answers, he’d probably have to beat it out of the man, and he didn’t need the information that badly.

Silver gave a shiver, the single violent kind from long-term cold, and Pierce’s attention snapped back to her. She made a show of looking exasperated at the concern. “I’m a little cold. I’m not going to break into pieces.”

“I’m sure one of the girls has something warmer you could borrow.” Pierce left Silver to her muffin, and strode off to appropriate something. Andrew watched Silver the moment Pierce’s eyes were off her. No way she was that cold, not with how she was standing now, never mind the fact she’d been fine all morning on the way over here.

Andrew came to stand close to Silver, exhaling in amusement and stealing a muffin piece. “Aren’t you the switch?” he murmured. Some Were were low-ranked, some were high-ranked, just by pure nature, though the fine gradations of hierarchy changed based on circumstance and packmates. Of course one could always attempt to act like the other, but most often it just didn’t smell right in some metaphorical way. Andrew had assumed he’d discovered Silver’s dominance as her madness receded, but she’d roused Pierce’s protective instincts by seeming truly weaker than him. She smirked at Andrew now, changed her posture, and he was struck anew by what a vulnerable little thing she was.

At least until she punched him in the side. He expected to find her laughing, but the teasing that had prompted the blow faded from her face almost immediately. “Survival is a harsh mistress. It’s better to be able to both fade from notice and bully away the bottom-feeders, rather than be limited to one or the other no matter the situation.”

He’d made a promise to himself last night to keep his hands off her, but Andrew slid a hand under her hair to squeeze the back of her neck anyway. She sighed, releasing some tension with the sound.

Andrew stepped back. “I just want to get this over with. Then I can order people to answer me.”

“Well, you certainly weren’t doing very well coaxing him even when I had him distracted,” Silver said, dry. Her body language curled back in on itself as Pierce returned with a leather jacket. She pushed Pierce away when he tried to pull the jacket on after guiding her dead wrist into the sleeve. Her dexterous wiggle to settle the jacket made for good watching from behind.

Andrew jerked his mind back onto the matter at hand. Enough of this. “I’m going to call John.” He pulled out his phone. It rang four or five times before John picked up, growl already running under his voice, even in the greeting.

“Having fun wherever you wandered off to? I think your beta’s getting twitchy, having me here without you.” Andrew kept his tone light to offset the baiting phrasing.

“Fuck you, Dare. I’m practically there.” The call cut off, and Andrew imagined that the end button had been pushed harder than was good for the phone.

A car turned into the driveway and they all looked toward the front door. A car door slammed, locks beeped, and John’s half-running footsteps reached the house.

“It wasn’t supposed to take this long,” John snapped as he entered. He smelled strongly of humans, which could mean anything about where he’d been. Humans were everywhere. John tried to brush past Andrew and Silver, but Andrew caught his elbow.

“And what would it be that wasn’t supposed to take long?” he said, putting a little command into his tone.

John’s lip curled up into a snarl. “I swear on the Lady that it’s personal pack business. Nothing to do with the one you hunt. Is that good enough?” He met Andrew’s eyes, clearly expecting the other man to step back from the confrontation. Andrew met his show of dominance squarely, shoving down the mental voice that called him a fool for taking this risk. He had no choice. No choice but to risk it.

They stayed, locked in the stare, until John broke first. “You gave your word,” he growled. “I invited you into my territory, and now you betray me and try to take it for Roanoke?” He put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder and shoved. Andrew rocked to absorb the blow and stayed where he was.

“This isn’t for Roanoke.” Andrew hesitated, hating to voice the painful fact. “I’m no longer affiliated with that pack. And I don’t want your territory for myself either.” No going back now, win or lose. That thought brought a fighting calm with it. “But you won’t let me do what I need to do to address this threat to all North American Were.” He unbuckled his belt and started unbuttoning his shirt as John stared at him. He nodded to the living room, since the entryway didn’t have enough space.

The man’s growl died away into an edged laugh. “If you insist.” John kicked off his shoes and started undressing too as he moved into the living room. Andrew might have scored a few points in their verbal confrontations over Silver before, but John knew he had the advantage over Andrew in physical power. The confidence in how he moved, the smirk buried in his expression; they said he knew Andrew knew too. He rolled his shoulders, showing off the play of muscles beneath the skin.

Since it was a Sunday, the majority of the pack was home, and they pressed around three edges of the room and into the den beyond. Someone moved the love seat, someone else the coffee table, until only an empty swath of carpet surrounded by the bookcases against the walls remained. Andrew felt the press of their contempt mixed with a whiff of fear of the Butcher like the worst summer humidity he’d ever experienced. He had no doubt they’d love to see him pounded into a pulp, love every minute. Whatever you said about Seattle, he inspired loyalty. They arranged themselves behind John, leaving the wall behind Andrew and the arch into the entryway empty but for Silver.

“Even if you somehow manage to win, Portland and Billings will take you down,” John taunted, once he was down to his jeans. “They won’t let the Butcher of Barcelona take a Western pack.”

Andrew clenched his hands. It was only a nickname. It had no power over him. “I find it ironic that you’d all pull together against me, but let a more heinous butcher go free.” He forced himself to stand still as John circled him, sneering. He couldn’t show that he was physically intimidated—couldn’t
be
physically intimidated. They were still in human, still talking. This was when Andrew had the advantage.

“You say one of my people might know something—what about
you,
Dare? Selene says it wasn’t you, yes, but you know silver. You know Europeans. Maybe it was one of your little friends from Spain. Why don’t you question them instead? Or do you know they wouldn’t tell you anything after everyone you slaughtered in cold blood?”

Andrew couldn’t see for a moment, rage’s wildfire rush through his muscles showing as a red mist before his eyes.

“Or are you afraid of yourself?” John tossed out the words like arrows shot blind, trying to overwhelm the target with quantity. “I’ve talked to Were in Roanoke. They say you’re more of an alpha than Rory, but you won’t do anything about it. Why is that? Are you afraid that someone will die and you’ll end up dripping with blood and surrounded by people with torn-out throats again? Why should my pack be your test case?” John’s scent was off. He had to be working from logic, not from real knowledge. All Andrew had to do was not react. Keep his muscles leashed into stillness so strained he nearly shook.

Cold fingertips against his back. Andrew jumped, his muscles were wound so tightly, but his subconscious knew Silver’s scent so he didn’t touch her. “Calm,” she murmured. If he’d been properly listening to the word, he might have growled at her presuming to give him advice, but sensation was what grounded him. The coolness stood out against his anger’s heat and focused him.

John’s lips drew back from his teeth at seeing her touch. He snapped his fingers at his side. “Selene, get over here. You’re no loyal member of Roanoke. Stand with Seattle.”

“I’m alpha of my own pack of one, wild self or no wild self, before I’m a loyal member of yours,” Silver said, leaving Andrew to stalk over to John. “The warrior is speaking sense, but you’re not
listening.
”

“I know you want to be kind to your people, John. To protect them,” Andrew said, when he was sure his voice would come out evenly. “But I’ve been an enforcer for nearly a decade, and it’s taught me that sometimes you have to do the things people will hate you for. You have to let them hate you, if that will keep them safe.”

John shook his head, contempt in his expression so deep he couldn’t have heard a word. “Selene,” John said again, and grabbed Silver’s elbow to yank her over to him. The unexpected threat startled a whimper from Silver.

Andrew didn’t give him a chance to finish the motion. Thought left him at Silver’s whimper and he was just motion, any motion at all, as long as it carried him to John to pound him into a screaming, bloody pulp.

John growled and blocked Andrew’s blows as easily as Andrew usually did when fighting untrained Were. “I’m not hurting her—”

Silver hissed in rage, and slammed a kick into John’s knee. The man staggered out of Andrew’s reach, eyes wide with shock. A few gasps slipped from the watching pack. “I told you not to use that name, I told you to pay attention to what the warrior says, and yet you still don’t
listen.
Why don’t you listen?” Silver retreated to stand behind Andrew. Her voice reached down through his rage and caught at his attention too. He needed to listen, to think, not just react. He’d handed John the advantage.

John pressed a hand to a shelf of the bookcase behind him and panted with pain as his knee healed. “Well?” he sneered. “What are you holding back for now?”