The Wild Ways (32 page)

Read The Wild Ways Online

Authors: Tanya Huff

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: The Wild Ways
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Jack unlocked the car and, head cocked, tracked the ring to the glove compartment. Unlocked the glove compartment. Used a claw to cut through the duct tape sealing it shut. Pulled out the wad of dirty laundry. Opened the
Where the Wild Things Are
movie lunch box. Unwrapped the kaiser roll. Pulled the phone out from inside the kaiser roll, ate the kaiser roll, and answered the phone.
“Who are you? Put Charlotte on immediately.”
Okay. Not for him. “Can’t.” He watched the fiddle music stream by, joining the streams always in the air. “She’s at band practice.”
“Band practice.”
It was more of an insult than a question, but he answered anyway. “Uh-huh.”
“Tell her to call me when she gets it right!”
“I don’t think that means . . . Hello?” He snapped the phone closed and tossed it on the driver’s seat. If Charlie’d wanted it to stay hidden, she shouldn’t have made it so easy to find.
He told Charlie about the call after they’d loaded all the equipment back into the vehicles and were on the way to Shelly’s brother-in-law’s cousin where they were spending the weekend.
“No promises,”
the brother-in-law’s cousin had snorted,
“but the missus, she’s been buying boxes and boxes of dry cereal against the chance of a zombie apocalypse and I can probably convince her to let go her hold on a couple, maybe even throw in a bag of milk come breakfast time.”
“You’re sure it was an auntie?” Charlie asked, turning onto Beatrice Street.
“All the hair on my body stood on end, and if that wasn’t creepy enough . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck where goose bumps lingered. “. . . she called you Charlotte and that seal-girl you like is the only other person I ever heard do that. And she was kind of mad at you. They’re kind of obvious when they’re mad.”
“But why wouldn’t an auntie know you?”
“Don’t know.” He was impressed Charlie didn’t care about a mad auntie. Angry auntie. Probably. “I thought the aunties had that cool da da DA-da ringtone?”
“Not an auntie trying to fake me out and get me to answer the phone—which would normally mean Auntie Jane.”
“She’d know me.”
“She doesn’t actually know everything. Don’t tell her I said that,” Charlie added after a moment.
They were stopped behind Mark’s van at the bridge when he remembered. “So that seal-girl you like? I was flying up the coast and I saw her come out of the water on legs and dance. And there was a guy there and he grabbed her skin. Her sealskin,” he added in case Charlie’d missed the point even though there’d been other grabbing going on. “You know what that means.” After a minute, when the silence gained weight, he added, “Sorry.”
Charlie sighed. “It wasn’t going anywhere, me and her.”
“I know. But you liked her.”
She sighed again as they started moving. “Yeah, I did. But what can you do.”
“Lots of stuff. If I was your prince instead of your cousin and you came to me, I could get the skin back and tell the seal-girl she wasn’t allowed to make you unhappy. Even if she couldn’t make you happy.” When Charlie turned to look at him, he shrugged. “I would, if you wanted.”
“If you were my prince?” He braced himself for the lecture on how Gales didn’t have princes no matter how spoiled some of the boys got—it was one of Auntie Carmen’s favorites—but all Charlie said was, “Need to be a prince very often these days?”
He shrugged again. “Sometimes the lesser folk like that I’m here. This is . . .” He waved a hand out the open window, “. . . messy.”
“Confusing?”
“No. And I know the difference.”
“Sorry.”
“They just like that I could make order even if I don’t, you know?”
“I think so.”
“But I don’t think the Courts know how many of the lesser folk have come through. That’s got to be weakening the border.” A little of the dashboard melted under his grip. “Look at the road now, okay?”
The brother-in-law’s cousin’s rec room was crowded with all five of them in there, but he didn’t realize how bad it was going to get until Shelly waved him toward the sofa bed, saying, “Charlie and I have shared before, and I know teenage boys need their own space.”
“I can’t!” He turned to stare at Charlie. The music might’ve made the band her other family, but carrying some of their equipment didn’t make them his family and things happened at night he couldn’t control. There were scorch marks on the ceiling of his bedroom to prove it. And
this
ceiling, it looked flammable.
“You can, but you don’t have to.” Charlie tossed him a pillow. “If you want, you can take your sleeping bag out to the backyard. It’s August, it’s not going to rain, and I doubt Shelly’s brother-in-law’s cousin will care.”
“Really?”
“Sure. You’re fourteen, not four. You can sleep without adult supervision.”
“There’s bugs, though,” Shelly added. “They’ll eat you alive.”
“I ate a bowl of roasted grasshoppers once,” Mark said thoughtfully. “Tasted like peanuts.”
Tim’s snort suggested
tasted like peanuts
was a relative term.
Bugs didn’t bother him. “I can sleep outside?” He checked with Charlie. “Like this?”
She knew what he meant; in skin, not scales. “Why not? Stay in the yard. Come inside if you have to use the bathroom; don’t pee against the fence.”
“Hadn’t occurred to him until you mentioned it,” Mark snickered.
 
 
 
“Hey.”
His tail nearly ripped its way out of the sleeping bag before he realized Charlie was sitting cross-legged on the grass beside him. “Don’t sneak up on a guy!” he snapped, trying not to sound like he’d nearly changed. He hadn’t changed without meaning to for years.
“Sorry.”
Total lie. “And I don’t need you checking up on me.”
“I wanted to ask you a question.”
He squirmed down in the sleeping bag, muttering, “Yeah, it’s proportional.”
Charlie snickered. “Your cousins?”
“Duh.”
The girls who’d come West with Cameron had stared wide-eyed at his dragon form, then all made a point of drawing him aside to ask. Cameron had patted him on the shoulder and said,
“Take my advice, dude; until you’re fifteen just tell them to piss off. They’ll be running your life soon enough.”
“Well, I am way outside your seven-year break, so not my problem. Although . . .” She frowned as she broke off blades of grass and flicked them off her fingertips onto the breeze. “. . . your first ritual had better be with one of the older girls. You burn when you’re stressed and she’s going to need to keep control.”
“Over me?”
“Duh.” Grinning, Charlie sprinkled bits of grass over his face. “Which brings me to my question. Given that worrying about burning the place down is more likely to cause you to burn the place down, why haven’t you ever asked Allie if you could sleep in the courtyard or on the roof?”
“As if. There’s no way up to the roof in skin.”
“Please. Like she wouldn’t jump at the chance to have Michael visit and do that architecture thing. Also, I know for a fact she’s always wanted a spiral staircase.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea. Now, answer the question.”
He turned the next sprinkle of grass into ash before it hit him. “Because people, Gales, sleep in bedrooms.”
“Where am I sleeping tonight?”
“In a basement.”
“And last night?”
“In a tent, yeah, I get it you’re a Gale and you don’t sleep in bedrooms, but you’re different.”
“And we have a winner.”
Jack stared at her for a long moment, allowing his vision to sharpen until he could see her as clearly by starlight as he would have in daylight. The charms on her eyelids were freaky, but the rest of her face seemed to be triumphant rather than concerned. That was new. These kinds of conversations with Allie always ended up with her looking like he was a lost sheep or something equally useless and unable to be a Gale.
“Different.” She patted her chest. “Different.” She smacked his.
“Obvious much,” he muttered unable to get his arms out of the sleeping bag to swat her hand away.
“Apparently not.” Bending at the waist, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “My bad. I should have noticed and done something about it sooner.”
“So you’re my new mommy?”When her eyes widened, he sighed. “Fourteen, not four. And as Auntie Bea keeps reminding me, when I’m fifteen, and I’m not a child and I’m not protected by being a child, I’ll still be a sorcerer and you know what they do to sorcerers.”
“You’ll also still be half dragon and that makes you unique, unique powers are Wild Powers, that makes
you
a Wild Power, and Wild Powers play by different rules.”
“Gale boys aren’t Wild Powers.”
“Yeah, that’s what the aunties said. But Gale boys aren’t dragons. Or, technically, princes. First time for everything.”
About to tell her that just because she said something that didn’t make it so, Jack realized that this was Charlie and all he said was, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You know, sleeping outside is going to be a nonevent if you don’t go away.”
“Point.” She stood and smiled down at him. “Firm the ground when you get up. Shelly’s brother-in-law’s cousin won’t want a chunk of his yard feeling like a mattress.”
“I was
going
to.”
“Sleep sweet, Jack.”
He rolled his eyes, closed them, and faked a snore. She let him hear her walk away.
First time for everything. Charlie said so.
But it was probably still a good idea to try and do something amazing enough they’d want to keep him around.
EIGHT
 
A
MELIA CARLSON’S CELL PHONE rang at 9:02. Her private number. The one very few people had.
Catherine Gale’s last payment and the note had been gone when she got to the office that morning, having already spent an hour with her personal trainer and what felt like twice as long trying to choke down a wheat grass/ banana/blueberry smoothie—anti-oxidants and potassium and she had no idea what the hell the wheat grass was in aid of, but considering what she’d paid for it, it had better work.
Her cell phone rang again. And a third time.
Paul appeared in the open doorway. For the first time since she’d hired him, he looked like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. On one level, she approved; overworked assistants gave a person credibility. On another level, bags under anyone’s eyes weren’t attractive.
Four rings.
“Boss?”
“I’ve got it.” Always three rings to show she wasn’t at anyone’s beck and call. “Close the door on your way out.” She had no idea why she’d waited for four. “Hello.”
“The fourth ring is just self-indulgent,” a familiar voice said. “What is it we need to talk about?”
Amelia took a deep breath and reminded herself that Sister Benedict was long dead. “I don’t care what the relationship is between you and the woman Two Seventy-five N has hired to find those pelts, but I will not have her walking into my office like she owns the place.”
“You won’t?”
She could hear Catherine Gale’s smile, and only years of practice in boardrooms and at drill sites surrounded by the good ol’ boys of the oil industry kept her tone level. “No, I won’t. It appears my people can’t keep her away any more than they can prevent your coming and going.” Contrary to common opinion, flattery was not a universal motivator, but subtle flattery could prime the pump. “I dealt with her yesterday, but I have no doubt she’ll regroup and try again.”
“You dealt with her?”
The question sounded disappointed, but Amelia had no idea if it was because she’d been able to deal or because Catherine Gale had wanted to do it herself. “Yes. I dealt with her, and I’d appreciate it if you could keep your relatives from wasting my time.”
“I am not responsible for my relatives.”
“You are responsible for this one showing up in my office.”
“How so?”
The longer any conversation continued without a discussion of payment rearing its head, the less likely payment would be required. She would much prefer not having to pay Catherine Gale to deal with this. “You came to me.”
“You had a problem I could solve.”
“And now I have another one. The difference being, you caused this problem.” Amelia had a certain skill at reading silences and this one, this one sounded amused.
“All right, here’s what I’ll do.” Catherine Gale sounded more amused than the silence had. “I’ll throw some distractions her way. If she can handle them with time enough left over to bother you, well, you’re on your own.”

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