Chapter 139

~~Beatrice~~

Seven weeks.

“Here.”

Triss stared down at the book and knife, at Samantha, the book a little more, and then Samantha.

“How’d you—”

“Antoinette stores artifacts for years, even centuries. She was going to lock these up, until she felt ready to go back for them. And...” She squirmed as she put the objects back into a small, flat box, and handed it to Triss. “I’ll have to take them back, at some point. But ... but even if she finds out what I did, that’s a risk I’m willing to take, if it means Mary gets to live again.”

Beatrice winced as she slowly took the open box out of Sam’s hands. “Yeah, I get it. And thanks, a fucking lot, but you know I can’t guarantee anything.”

But she’d try, holy fuck she’d try. Finally, she had all the pieces. The flesh witch, the tools, and Black Blood. God damn finally, progress! Now Elen could make a proper body, living and breathing, and it’d be Julias. Proper, real, Julias. From there, she’d have to find a way to get his soul. The bigger hurdle.

But Jacob had given her a hint, that he’d managed to get a glimpse of the other side, but he had to kill a lot of kine to do it. Triss would look for another way, at first, but if she had to bide her time for the next ten years, slowly collecting asshats she didn’t mind killing, she would. If she had to leave Dolareido and find some place where she could gather the worse humanity had to offer, and sacrifice them in some sort of gigantic ritual, she would.

Maybe somewhere with wildlands and poachers? No one likes poachers.

“I know, no guarantees.” Sam grabbed her necklace as she stared down at the box, too. “But it’s worth the risk.”

Damn, that was a heavy weight on the shoulders. Nodding, Triss closed the thin box, and set it aside. They were in the Circle’s cave, and it was just the girls. Jacob was out, so was Othello and Aaron, leaving only Triss and Jen with Samantha.

“I find it difficult to imagine,” Jennifer said, sitting down against the wall of blankets in Triss’s alcove, “that it would be that easy. To steal the book and knife from the Prince, I mean.”

Samantha frowned as she sat down beside her. “You think she knows?”

“Antoinette is really fucking smart,” Triss said, setting the box aside and sitting beside Sam so the Daeva was between them. “So maybe she does?”

“My sire is, um, distracted with things lately. This whole Carthian Invictus turf war bothers her. It’s almost like she takes it personally?”

Triss nodded. “Yeah I can see that. Antoinette’s built the city from the ground up to be a paranormal’s utopia, right? But shit keeps happening to fuck that up. She probably does take it personally.”

“And,” Samantha said, “she’s distracted with other things, too. I’m not exactly sure what. Might have something to do with my son, and the curse.”

Triss shivered. And, shit, Samantha noticed.

“That curse,” Triss said, “it’s definitely something no one saw coming. Jack seems to be doing a good job handling it, though? I mean, he used it to beat the hunters. And yeah, it was pretty scary, but he still managed it.”

Manage was a strong word. The kid wrecked everyone, a god damn slaughter, and he’d loved every second of it. There weren’t any words for how fucking sick and twisted it was. No point in telling Sam that.

“I suppose he ... did beat the werewolves with it, and is still fine. No one died, either.”

“Exactly. Don’t worry about your son. Kid’s smart, too damn smart.”

Sighing, Samantha nodded again, fiddling with her fingers. “It’s hard for any mom to not worry about her son.”

“True,” Jennifer said, “but circumstances are different. He’s no longer just your son. He’s your son and Julias’s childe.”

Samantha gulped and stared at Jennifer. “Does ... that mean I’ll stop caring for him?”

Jennifer smiled and pat the woman on the shoulder. “In a hundred years, you may stop thinking of him as your son, yes. But that doesn’t mean you’ll stop caring for him. Simply that your relationship will change. Given time, you’ll no longer think of Antoinette as your sire, or even your superior. She’ll be another vampire.”

Frowning, Samantha looked down and rubbed her knees a little. “Not sure I like that.”

After a small laugh, Triss pat the woman on her other shoulder. “You’re welcome to fight against the Beast as much as you want. But—”

“I would like to also mention, Samantha,” Jennifer said, leaning in a little closer, “Triss and I talked about your ... increasing involvement in the Circle.”

Now? Really? Triss raised a brow at Jen, but the damn slut winked at her. Ah whatever, roll with it.

“You did?”

“Mhhmm.” Jennifer nodded, and set a hand on Sam’s leg. “We just wanted you to know, if you ever did, oh I don’t know, find yourself thrown at us like Jacob did to you not long ago, we wouldn’t mind. In fact, I encourage it.”

Ok, Jennifer was laying it on pretty thick, but damn the way Samantha froze and stared at the blankets underneath her, was too fucking cute.

“What the damn slut means to say is, is that Jacob’s happier than we’ve seen him, ever, since you came along, Sam. And the two of you really seem to enjoy getting freaky with it where everyone can join in. So, yeah, we’re cool with you, you know, doing what you did last time.”

“And more,” Jen whispered, full husky voice mode.

So naturally, Triss gave Jen a good slap on the leg.

“It was supposed to be a sort of blanket, uh, statement, not a direct invite, Sam. Don’t feel pressured or anything.”

Jennifer shrugged, smile going full slut mode. Really should have been a Daeva. “That’s what it was.”

“Not it wasn’t! You might as well have invited her to fuck.”

“I did no such thing. I merely suggested that you and I have no issues with the rather open, and expressive way Jacob and Samantha enjoy their sexuality. And, perhaps, partaking of that sexuality a little with Samantha.”

Triss rolled her eyes. “Well, that went further than I planned. Not like Jen and I are gonna try and seduce you or anything, Sam, okay? Calm down.” Poor woman looked like she was going to burst into flames right in front of them. “Though, from the looks you’ve been giving Othello, I imagine he’s the one you’re excited about.”

“Oh god.”

Yeap, that made it even worse. Now she looked like she was going to violently explode in pure shame.

Jennifer giggled, flirty and sultry, and shook her head. “Othello feels the same way we do, I am sure, Samantha. And knowing Jacob, he wouldn’t mind at all, as long as he was there. Or, better yet, with both inside you?”

It wasn’t like they hadn’t told her these things already, but damn, it was so fucking cute how she boiled, even without the Blush of Life. Was it like this for the Prince and her boy toy? Did she love embarrassing the kid with new kink after new kink after new kink? If he reacted anything like his mother did, probably.

Ok, back to the heavier shit.

“We’re gonna test these out,” Triss said, patting the box, “tonight.”

“I ... probably shouldn’t come, should I?”

“No, probably not. It’s not a fun time, and Jacob wouldn’t want Jen and me sharing Circle secrets. Plus, it’s ... easy ... to get fucked in the head about this kinda stuff. Emotional. Better to stay back, ok? Stay back, and don’t get your hopes up. This probably won’t work, but the book and knife bring us a step closer.”

Sighing, Samantha nodded, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “I trust you, Beatrice. Even if my sire finds out what I did, and punishes me. Even if I can’t have Mary back. It was worth the risk.”

Christ, Triss fucking hoped so.

“Should we invite Sándor?” Jennifer asked. The two of them walked the desert outside Dolareido, on the way to the secret chamber where they kept Elen. Not really secret, if the Begotten knew where it was, but maybe Sándor didn’t tell the others? Triss had to ask him.

“To this?” She motioned to the flat box in her arms.

“Yes. He seems open to the idea.”

“I dunno. I think he’s mostly interested in watching it all fall apart, so he can ... save our asses when it does, I guess.”

Jen raised a brow. “That’s a bad thing?”

“No, but I’d prefer to keep someone around who thought I had a chance of succeeding.”

Chuckling, Jen stepped in closer and hooked an arm over her shoulders. “You like him.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess. Or maybe I just like drunk Sándor?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. Sober Sándor”—Jen chuckled at the name—”is so very ... stern. I like a hard man.” She chuckled some more.

“Julias wasn’t a hard man.”

“Well, no, but he could be when he wanted to be. Sándor is similar, in that sense. He just always wants to be hard, and stoic, for obvious reasons.”

“Eh I dunno. I think the gargoyle dude’s really in tune with his gargoyle Horror. You heard what he said, about guarding a vampire for decades. I can see it now, dude literally perched on a rooftop or stone column or something, squatting for days on end.”

“That’s what you think of, when you remember the huge gargoyle?”

“Um, yeah? He’s a gargoyle.”

Jen leaned in, and set a kiss on her neck. “I was thinking, if he has two sets of arms, and two sets of wings, what else does he have two of?”

Triss choked on a laugh, almost dropping the box. Thank god no one else was out here to hear them, cause this was some stupid sex talk.

“You want to fuck the big gargoyle?”

“I admit, the size and strength of him in that form is terribly appealing. Come on, Triss. You don’t fantasize about being picked up by a huge, handsome monster, and being fucked like a toy? I bet that’s what Jessy enjoys most about fucking a werewolf.”

Triss would have laughed, but she didn’t. Jen wasn’t wrong. There was definitely an appeal to that fantasy. Really spoke to the teenage her, when she was first getting into metal, and thought shit like skulls and witchcraft were ‘bitchin’. Big scary monster scooping her up, holding her with one hand, and fucking her like, like Jen said, a toy? Yeap, the young Beatrice, who’d watched Beauty and the Beast over and over, loved that idea.

“It’s pretty hot, yeah. But I don’t need some giant beast to get me off.” She also really liked the prince the Beast had turned into in the movie. Snuggling up to a ten like that? In a rich castle? Yes please.

“With the arrival of the Uratha and Begotten,” Jen said, “I can’t help but wonder about it.”

Triss shook her head. “Yeah, well, you can go ahead and keep trying to seduce Sándor. He’s going to keep pushing you away.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that.” Which Jen loved, no doubt. The harder a man was to get, the more appealing he was. Triss didn’t really need that to find a man appealing, but bitches like Jen loved the chase.

“Think drunk Sándor shed any light on that?”

Jen nodded. “He is obviously a terribly broken man. What happened to his family is horrible, but then spending several years a slave to their killers? He hasn’t had a chance to heal.”

“And ... you think he needs some sexual healing.”

Jen kissed her neck again. “It works. Samantha’s been enjoying it quite a bit.”

Triss expected her to add ‘and you too’, but she didn’t. Nice of her. But it was true, much as Triss used to be against the idea. Yeah, sex was awesome, and she was damn thankful every night she had Jen. The guilty feelings had faded, and now she felt comfortable leaning back and just enjoying Jen’s touch on her. And, hey, if she got a peep show of Othello and Madison, or Sam and Jacob, she enjoyed that too.

If she didn’t have Jen, that wouldn’t have happened. She’d probably still be in her catacomb, miserable, hating everyone and everything. Of course, it wasn’t just the sex that helped her. Jen, the others, even Jacob, talking to them helped. But she’d be lying if she didn’t say sex from someone she loved went a long way.

But she wasn’t going to sleep with some random dude, and Sándor was still kinda in that random dude territory. Still, seeing him get drunk and talk about his dead family? Maybe she shouldn’t think of him as ‘some guy’ anymore. Dude was smoking hot. Dreamy blue eyes in a steel gaze, dark gruff, the buzzed dark hair? No wonder Jen was all over him. And if she wanted to extend some of her sexual healing to him, undoubtedly dragging Triss along for the ride, was that so bad?

And Julias? Arg, knowing him, he wouldn’t mind. He’d say something like ‘come on Triss, we’re vampires. Sex is part of the package. But I know your heart was always mine’ or something super cheesy like that.

He’d say? Fuck, one night with the book and knife, and she was already thinking like he was back, or just around the corner.

“How about,” Triss said, “you keep trying to seduce Sándor, but I’m pretty sure it’ll take a long time. He’s onto your tricks.”

“Seduction is not a trick. It’s an art.”

“Yeah ok Miss Daeva. In the mean time, I’m going to keep working on this”—she shook the box—”and try and get my man back.”

Jen grinned, but nodded and let go of Triss’s shoulders. “If you succeed, I’ll happily go back to the way things were.”

“Well you were always allowed to sleep with other people, Jen, we told you that. Only thing off the table was sleeping with Julias or me when the other wasn’t there.”

Her friend frowned. “Yes, but that was then. I ... don’t see myself sleeping with anyone unless you’re there, Triss.”

Triss laughed, and kissed her idiot friend on the cheek. “You know that sounds an awful lot like a romantic relationship?”

Jen gasped. “How dare you.”

Elen’s eyes opened, and she grinned down at Beatrice from her dangling spot over the large, stained bowl. “My book. How wonderful. Be a dear, cut me down, and I’ll be on my way.” There was one thing Triss could count on when dealing with Elen: woman was too damn gone to plan an escape.

“I’m not letting you go, Elen. When we’ve resurrected Julias, we can talk about it.” She managed to say the R word without wincing this time. “And I’m not letting you down to do whatever you want. For all I know, you could really fuck me up when you got these.”

Elen nodded slightly. “Ok deary.”

Sighing, Triss held up her hands, and concentrated. Jennifer walked around the cave, lighting the candles, and soon they had their mood lighting.

“Black Blood, I summon you.”

They’d done this song and dance plenty by now. Even still, the approaching presence of Black Blood was not something she was ever going to get used to. The unnatural cold, the smothering weight, the creepy blackness, it all seeped and oozed into the cave, and under her skin. Might as well be fucking a graveyard; that sounded metal as hell, but in practice, it was really fucking disturbing.

Slowly, the ooze filled the room, dripping from the ceiling and flowing over their feet, there but not there, like mist. Cold death on the air, with a mind of its own and a form all its own.

“Success I see,” the voice said, bassy rasp filling the cave.

“Success.” Triss flipped through a few pages of the book. A language she couldn’t understand filled the pages, but the pictures gave her a better idea of what was going on. There was a picture of an animal skull, and a ritual circle beside it. Another animal skull, and the same circle beside it, with a few dots on its lines. “I can’t read a damn thing in here.”

“I reckon Malachi can,” Black Blood said.

“You can, I reckon,” Triss said with her thickest Texan accent as she frowned around at the dripping black liquid.

The damn monster chuckled. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“A spirit’s got to have their secrets.”

“But...”

“But if Elen can read it, it’ll be fine. I read what she reads.” The black ooze snuck its way up the sacrifice bowl onto the woman’s feet, then up, under, and over her skirt. The old woman’s veins bulged as the monster forced its way into her body. Her eyes rolled upward as he seeped in through her tear ducts. She shuddered as bits of the black forced its way under her fingernails and up her fingers. When Black Blood finally flowed into her through her mouth, it seemed tame by comparison.

“Can’t you find a better way to do that?” Triss asked.

“Maybe,” Black Blood said, accent gone, replaced with Elen’s sweet, deary grandma sorta accent. Still a big, booming voice though, layered with alien rasps that better belonged on a ghost or something, not an old woman. “But she’s our slave. I don’t like to waste my time.”

What a load of shit. Black Blood loved to waste his time. The fucker might as well have been the god of lounging about, indulging himself his weird hungers. Whatever. Triss unhooked the witch, and sat her in a nearby wooden chair.

“You in control?”

“I am.”

“May I have my book now?” Elen said, the actual Elen. “I haven’t had my book in months. I miss it.”

Triss looked back to Jen. Her friend shrugged, wincing, but gestured back to Elen. Yeah, it was fucking dangerous giving this bitch her tools back, but Black Blood was in control. That wasn’t necessarily any better. Giving the strange spirit the ability to manipulate flesh with all the power of Elen, a witch who’d enslaved a ridiculously powerful Begotten, had performed haruspex on humans, and even created some sort of flesh chamber thing, was a really fucking dangerous idea.

Triss handed the book to Elen, but the old woman’s shaky hands couldn’t handle the weight of it. Groaning, Triss held it for her.

“You need a fucking oxygen tank, too?”

“She would,” Black Blood said, “if she was moving under her own power. Mmm, this is interesting.”

“You can read it?”

“Like I said, she can. And her mind is telling me this is some language not recorded in history. A secret language, used by these flesh witches.”

“Oh god, there’s more than one?”

Elen nodded. “I can’t dig up her memories, not easily. Her brain is a pile of moosh. But some things remain.”

Jennifer stepped in closer. “Like how it is easy to remember a song for years, or decades?”

Elen nodded again, and held out her hand to the pages of the book. “I doubt you’ll learn anything about her coven, but, she can read this book.” A shaky hand slowly turned the page, and Elen hummed appreciatively as she scanned the pages. “Oh my.”

“Do be careful with my book, deary,” regular Elen said. “It took many years to write this.”

If things went well, Triss would have Julias back, and then she’d promptly throw this bitch into a crematorium, along with her book and knife. No need to tell her that, though.

“What’s it say?”

“I see rituals about manipulating flesh,” Black Blood said, “and they are ... almost cliché. There’s talk here about the life energy that binds all things, about the circle of life, and about how it manifests in the world in different forms of life.”

Jennifer groaned. “Any talk of bacteria, viruses, or fungi?”

Triss raised a brow. “Uh, what?”

“This drivel, talk of the web of life that connects all things, rarely ever speaks of where the overwhelming amount of life is.” Jennifer shrugged. “A human’s pathetic attempt to understand a world they’re too stupid to imagine.”

Oh, now she got it. Lots of old literature or ideas about the power of life were utterly oblivious to things like bacteria and viruses. Stupid old people trying to explain their world as best they could.

“Perhaps,” Black Blood said, “but misguided as this witch’s beliefs may be, they still function.”

“Power of belief?” Triss asked.

Black Blood didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of talking about belief, like maybe it was relevant to him. There was an old idea in the Circle of the Crone that gods did actually exist, and that maybe they existed because people believed in them. Very American Gods. But Black Blood was a spirit. Different rules. Right?

Elen turned to the next page. “More, about animals, about the different powers they bring.”

“Tiger testicles for virility?” Jennifer asked, scowling.

“Things of that nature, yes. Bull, horse, rabbit, raven, frog.”

Triss tried to not laugh, but couldn’t help it. “Holy shit. Any mention of a cauldron?”

The two vampires shared a chuckle. Ok yeah, the shit Elen had managed to perform, the crazy rituals and witchcraft she did, it was super impressive. But the book was apparently something ripped straight out of a fairytale, with witches sitting around a cauldron, stirring in frog legs and newt eyes.

Maybe that’s what Elen did, in the old days? Maybe she had a bunch of witches, hiding out in a swamp? A village nearby, with people the witches got to royally fuck over, abduct their children or something, and do their crazy flesh magic on? Silly as the fairytale shit sounded, the original fairytales were fucking nasty stories, full of nasty deaths, and a witch that could use flesh like a painter used paints, fit right in there.

“No cauldron, so far.”

“Well, figure out what she needs to get an actual living, breathing body working. We can probably get her anything she needs, or close. But we ain’t Frankenstein. I don’t have a basement full of crazy technology.”

“I doubt anything in here will require more than the flesh and blood of animals,” Black Blood said as he slowly turned to another page. Animals. That included kine, no doubt.

“This must be an interesting read for you, you old fucker,” Triss said. “You, some weird ass spirit obsessed with the flesh of the dead, corpses, death, and all that shit, and now you’re reading a book that’s completely about life.”

Elen smiled at her. Couldn’t tell if it was BB’s smile, or Elen’s, but again, no response. He, or she, turned the page, and kept on reading.

~~Natasha~~

Eight weeks after the incident.

“Are we sure this is ... s-safe?”

Jack shrugged as he reached for the door to Avery’s apartment building. “Probably not.”

“B-But we’re gonna go in anyway?”

Jack nodded, wearing a half smile, and gestured to the air. Natasha almost squeaked as fluttering noises fell on them, but she recovered quickly. It was a normal sight at this point, to see Jack with two crows on his shoulders. Mulder and Scully, his pets, and according to him, his friends. They had helped him in some dire situations. They’d even helped him during the attack on the hunters. At this point, they weren’t just pets, and she had to remember that. They were his allies and informants.

Other Ventrue and Gangrels had done similar things, and all Kindred knew to be wary when crows, or rats, or coyotes were nearby. It just wasn’t normally done in Dolareido, not in a city that never slept, and was steeped in technology. Cameras were everywhere, from store corners to patrolling drones. Using crows or rats was seen as old school, and ineffective, unless you were a very powerful Kindred and capable of using those elements easily. Viktor did that. Julias did that. Now, Jack did that.

“Jessy’s nearby with a few Kindred and thralls for back up. And you know how much shit they’d be in if they attacked me when I’m acting as ambassador.”

Not really an ambassador. Peace keeper and negotiator. But she didn’t correct him.

“I know. B-But, I hear about how angry Avery was, for what you did.”

Jack winced. “Well hopefully they’ve calmed down. I know they’ve healed up.”

“We have healed,” Brianna said, glaring at them as they came through the doorway. “I don’t know how calm we are.”

Jack smiled at her, and nodded, almost like a bow. “Brianna. See Derick or Santos lately?”

She grimaced, and the expression slowly morphed into a frown. “No.”

“Well hopefully I can change that, get everyone cooperating again.”

“Pfft, good luck. And why’s she here?”

“She’s here as my back up, in case someone tries to attack me.” He reached up and stroked the head feathers of one of the crows. “She’ll peck your eyes out, you know.”

Tash giggled, but quickly shut up, doing her best to suppress her smile. That wasn’t the sort of quit witted joke Jack would make. That was the kinda comment Julias would have made. It still hurt, knowing Julias was dead, but it did make her feel good, seeing him in his childe.

“Don’t be a jackass,” Brianna said, also trying to suppress a smile. “I meant Natasha.”

“Natasha’s here for the same reason, but also, the Prince has business with Avery, for what Matthew and Arturo did to Tash.”

“Then she could have come herself.”

Jack shook his head. “You know that isn’t how this works.”

Sighing, Brianna gestured to the stairs. “Yeah, cause your elders are a bunch of pussy bitches. Only one of you with any balls is Garry.”

“Maybe. I’m not here to debate that.”

That was smart of Jack, to not defend Antoinette. The werewolves respected Avery for being the first into the fray, dumb as it was for the general to run in first, but Jack didn’t need to make more enemies here. He was peace keeping, not antagonizing, even if it meant someone insulting his girlfriend. How had the boy matured so much? Antoinette said he was an old soul, but usually that was just how adults insulted someone without actually insulting them. Old soul was synonymous with bitter asshole.

Jack definitely had a cynical side to him people his age usually didn’t have, but there was more to it than that. A little Julias in him, to soften how scathing his personality could be, maybe.

Tash and Jack walked up the stairs of the crummy old building, and Tash looked around with each step. Such a beat-up old building. But the werewolves were comfortable here; Art and Matt had told her repeatedly. They weren’t comfortable in the city. Even Clara and Carter, who’d taken up the Invictus offer on living in expensive apartments until the incident, had told Matt and Art that they didn’t like it. None of them were comfortable in the middle of the city, except Eric.

Maybe that was why Eric could handle himself when transformed, in a circumstance the others thought too dangerous? City werewolf?

Jack knocked on Avery’s door.

“Get in here already,” a voice called from the other side.

Jack sighed, and looked at Tash; so did the crows. Tash nodded, resolute. She could do this.

They went in, Brianna behind them, and the werewolf closed the door once they were in the apartment.

“Hello,” Jack said, nodding to the group as Brianna passed them to join her pack.

“Yeah, hello,” Avery said between clenched teeth, leaning back against the furthest wall, worn couch between them. “Why the birds?”

Clara stood beside her, arms folded, and she managed to look at Jack for a half second before looking elsewhere. Tash did the same thing, when her eyes met Matt and Art’s.

“Scully and Mulder are my friends, and they notice things I don’t sometimes.” Jack stepped further into the room, and used a subtle little finger gesture to invite Tash to follow him. Being the center of attention of twelve werewolves was not something she wanted to do, but this was important. And if she didn’t deliver the order, Antoinette would do it herself, and it would not surprise Tash if that ended up with someone dying.

“Well,” Avery said, “spit it out. How much are we fucked, for trying to save everyone’s asses?”

“You’re not fucked, Avery. This isn’t Tijuana. The Kindred here aren’t your enemy. And whatever you think Maria’s up to, you’re wrong about it, for a bunch of reasons. Go near her again and it won’t go well for you. But,” he put up his hands before any of them could say anything, “I’m not here to threaten you guys. I’m here because Antoinette isn’t kicking you out.”

Avery snorted. If they were outside, she’d likely have spit on the floor.

“Why? I’m sure Maria and Michael want us gone.”

“Much as my boss would like otherwise, the Invictus don’t own the city. Antoinette does. You guys did good work, dealing with that first azlu, and she knows it. She also recognizes that there’s something up in Dolareido, something going on. It’s not Maria, despite what you may think, but there is something going on.”

Natasha nodded. “I’ve been t-tasked with ... finding out what I can. I’m sure it’s not Maria.”

“How are you sure?” Clara said.

“Because I’ve t-talked to her. I ... I know her, well enough to know she wouldn’t do this.” Before anyone else could argue, she put up a hand. “B-But, something is going on, and I’m going to find out what. And to ... to do that, the P-Prince has ordered that Matthew and Arturo help.”

Every wolf in the room looked at the two men. They both squirmed, looked at each other, at Jack, avoided looking at Tash, and looked to Avery.

“And if I say no?” Avery asked.

Jack held out a hand and started counting on his fingers. “Without the permission of the Prince, you attacked one of the Primogen. You’re not too stupid to realize that Garry is now pushing on the Invictus because of the damage you caused giving him an opening.”

“That wasn’t—”

“But worse than that, Matthew and Arturo staked one of the Prince’s students, and fellow dragon.” Wow, he really did sound like Viktor when he got bossy. “So, the two responsible, will be doing the dragons a favor. Reparations. It’ll probably be dangerous, but too bad. Until Natasha says otherwise, Matthew and Arturo will be taking her in and out of the Hisil as she wishes, and front lining any efforts she makes where bodies are needed. Barring apocalyptic circumstances, they’ll be hers to use as she sees fit for the foreseeable future, until this hidden presence issue is resolved.”