Black Dog (38 page)

“We've got more important things to worry about than any moon-bound cur, whoever's kid she is,” snapped Ethan. He was almost as worn-looking as Alejandro, but far less welcoming; his eyebrows had drawn down in a disapproving expression when he saw Natividad. His father had just died, though, and Natividad knew exactly what that was like, the horrible days right afterward. She didn't want to think about it, but he had a right to be angry and upset with the world.

She also, however, made a mental note to remember to feed the little shifter, afraid that, if Ethan's attitude was characteristic, no one else would. She gave her a wary look. There was no sign, in Cassie's shadow form, of the fragile-seeming girl Natividad had glimpsed. She was crouching very still, but it was not the stillness of patience or resignation or surrender. Her fiery eyes gleamed malevolently. If anybody opened the cage door, Natividad bet Cassie wouldn't just sit there quietly. Miguel had been right: Sheriff Pearson definitely did not need to see his daughter right now. If her father reached between those cage bars – and he probably wouldn't be able to resist – she was pretty sure Cassie would rip his hand off.

Alejandro turned back to what he had been doing, which was, apparently, something to do with Miguel's guns.

Miguel's new rifles were neatly racked in one of the empty cells, his equipment for making ammunition arranged on a table in another cell. Two of the remaining cells were occupied by stacks of dusty boxes. Nothing she saw explained to Natividad why she hated the room, which she did. It wasn't just poor Cass Pearson. This was something else, a feeling, as though she could feel echoes of old despair and rage leaking from the walls and through the silver-laced bars of all the cells. She looked uneasily at the way the shadows of the rifles stretched, long and black and spidery, across the walls. She said, more or less involuntarily, “What an
awful
room.”

Ethan grimaced and gave a speaking glance around the narrow room. “They say it wasn't so bad when it was Richard Lanning's private library, but Thos Korte decided Dimilioc needed more than one cell and turned this room into –” He opened a hand to indicate the cells “– his special prison. Ugly, yes, but the best place in the house to mess about with gunpowder. Who would care if we blew it up?”

Everything
anybody
said about the previous Dimilioc Master made Natividad more and more grateful that Thos Korte had gone into the fell dark, and she found she liked Ethan better because he obviously felt the same way. “What does Grayson use this room for?” she asked.

Ethan shrugged. “Not much, I guess, until now. Mostly just storage for things no one wants, but no one wants to throw away.”

Natividad took a rifle off its rack to see whether it was loaded. It was. Cass Pearson followed her movements with a steady, predatory stare. Natividad pretended not to notice, but the shifter's presence sure didn't help the ugly feel of the room.

“Can you shoot?” Ethan asked her.

“A little. Not like Miguel.”

“Yeah.” Ethan paused. “I had a human cousin who was pretty good… but Thos didn't like his black wolves to be too friendly with humans. She went to live in Lewis. She should have been safe there, but the war…”

Natividad wanted to say something to show she was sorry for Ethan's grief, only of course she couldn't. There was nothing to say, and anyway a black dog didn't like to have any kind of weakness noticed. In a minute, Ethan would begin to regret mentioning his cousin at all. She hefted the rifle. “I guess we should take some of these upstairs. Miguel should have one. And Sheriff Pearson and DeAnn, and maybe some of the others. Do you think?” she added, because black dogs always liked to feel they were making all the decisions.

Alejandro said, “Grayson can't have wanted them just to look at. We'll take at least a couple up.”

The look Ethan shot Alejandro made it clear he didn't like any Toland upstart making decisions for Dimilioc. Naturally Alejandro didn't notice. Or maybe he just pretended not to. Natividad said quickly, “And maybe some boxes of ordinary ammo. Can't practice with the silver.”

“Your brother's set up a shooting range in the spare garage,” Ethan said. “I'll show you.” He gave her a tentative smile. She knew it was a peace offering. Maybe even the awkward beginnings of courtship. That was a scary idea in a whole different way.

The way Grayson had set it up, of course all the male Dimilioc wolves had to think about Natividad as a woman. It occurred to her now that this also made her think about herself that way, and she never had, really. Not even when she'd told Grayson she wasn't a child. She hated it. Well, they also had to think of her as a valuable commodity;
that's
what she hated. Ezekiel might court her, but he sure hadn't bothered to get to know her before he claimed her. To him, any Pure girl would do just fine. And now here was Ethan,
smiling
at her, one too many black wolves to deal with.

At least
Grayson
had been honest about what he thought of her.

It hadn't been like this for Mamá. The only black dog she'd ever met was Papá. What would Mamá say now?

She would say, “
Be nice to Ethan, Natividad, be nice to everybody, but don't be
too
nice, don't lead anybody on.”
She could almost hear Mamá say that. She bit her lip hard, hefted the rifle again and said to Ethan, casually, the way she might have spoken to one of her brothers, “You think a gun rack'll fit in with all the pink lace in my room?”

Ethan looked at her. For an instant, Natividad was sure he was going to smile – twice in two minutes, amazing and a little scary – but he didn't, so after a moment, she added, speaking now to her brother, “Grayson wants you all. In an hour, he said.” She looked at her pink kitten watch. “Forty-five minutes, now. I figured I'd tell you and you could spread the word.” She gave Alejandro a quick look. “Miguel too, he said.”

Alejandro looked at Natividad in a silent question, like,
Dios mío
,
qué es eso
?
He said, “A council of war.”

“Not a council of anything,” Ethan snapped, instantly on edge. “He'll tell us what he wants and we'll do it.”

Black dog posturing: he and Alejandro hadn't sorted out their relative dominance yet and would be tense until they did. Natividad wished, briefly and fervently, that she was just dealing with ordinary humans. “Maybe he just wants to wish us all a nice night and pleasant dreams,” she said in her most cheerful, encouraging tone.

Ethan, surprised, actually laughed, and Natividad, relieved, smiled back. Really, she still didn't exactly like him, but he wasn't so
totally
unpleasant once he got used to you.

Then Cassie Pearson snarled. It was the first sound she had made: a low singing sound of hatred. Natividad flinched and headed for the stairs without waiting for the others. But they were right behind her. Maybe the shifter's malevolence didn't bother them, but it really was an awful room. Natividad glanced over her shoulder and said, “Somebody should put her back in the other room.”

This time, even Ethan nodded in agreement. “In the morning.”

While Ethan went to tell the other black dogs about the meeting, Natividad and Alejandro found Miguel. He was hard to find, since he was over in the east wing of the house, explaining the subtleties of black dog manners to an interested group of townspeople, including Father McClanahan.

“Grayson wants to see you,” Natividad told her twin, trying not to sound worried, and Alejandro demanded, “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Miguel said defensively. “He probably just wants me there because I'm your brother.”

Alejandro scowled. “I think you are not afraid enough of Grayson, Miguel – of any of the Dimilioc wolves. That's alright for Natividad, but for you it's different. You've put yourself forward too much. Of course he noticed you! Who knows what he noticed!”

“I'm safe,” Miguel said reasonably. “I'm Natividad's brother.” He stood with his hands at his sides and his gaze cast down, showing Alejandro a soft stubbornness that didn't give black dog anger anything to get hold of.

“We'll be alright,” Natividad said, anxious. “Miguel's right.” Which she wasn't sure of, actually, but she
was
sure they had better get moving if they didn't want to be late.

 

The meeting was in some ways an echo of the first time Natividad and her brothers had been brought before Grayson Lanning and the rest of the Dimilioc wolves, to hear what their fate would be. This time, though, the curtains had been drawn over the wide windows, shutting out the dark. That seemed sort of symbolic, though Natividad doubted anybody had meant it that way.

Grayson held court from his customary chair. His shadow, so dense that even to Natividad it almost seemed to have physical body and depth, lay beneath his chair like a hole in the firelight. The absence of the other two wolves of the Master's triumvirate was shocking. Zachariah Korte and Harrison Lanning should have been settled near Grayson, supporting the Master. Now only Ezekiel leaned against the back of the Master's chair. She was glad
he
was there, at least. Poor Grayson.

Ezekiel showed nothing of the exhaustion and grief that Natividad knew was dragging at him. He was not smiling, but his customary amused disdain showed in the tilt of his head and the crook of his thin mouth.

Keziah had curled herself into another of the heavy chairs, not too close to the Master. Despite her youth, she radiated dominance as well as unmistakable sexuality. Amira might almost have fitted into the same chair right along with her sister, but instead had tucked herself down on the floor beside Keziah's chair. Her arms were crossed over her small breasts as though for protection against the world, and she did not quite look at anyone. Natividad almost sort of liked Keziah, maybe, and she felt sorry for Amira, and she was glad they had both survived the battle – she really was. But the two Saudi girls seemed very poor substitutes for the lost Dimilioc wolves.

Thaddeus Williams had placed himself equidistant between Grayson and Keziah. Natividad was far less attuned to black dog posturing than Alejandro, but she guessed Thaddeus hadn't yet decided whether he was really inside Dimilioc or still outside. That would be a problem for Keziah, too. That was something else she had to do: work on pulling the new Dimilioc together. Mamá would have been good at it. Natividad sighed.

Despite the solidity of the chairs, the one Thaddeus occupied seemed barely large enough to support him. He did not exactly look comfortable, but he was leaning back, an elbow propped on one arm of the chair in a semblance of relaxation. DeAnn perched on the other arm of his chair, one hand moving in slow circles across his back. Natividad envied DeAnn's secure relationship with her husband.

Ethan, coming in right after Natividad and her brothers, flung himself into a chair that flanked Grayson's and sprawled there, trying, Natividad thought, for Ezekiel's easy disdain. He could not quite pull it off. Alejandro hesitated a beat longer than Ethan before also moving to a chair near Grayson. Natividad saw how he avoided looking at Keziah. The Saudi girl didn't look at him, either, but sort of gazed at the blank air, sexy and scornful.

Looking away from the black dog girl, Natividad found herself meeting Ezekiel's cool gaze and felt herself blush. She looked quickly away again.

The Master lifted a hand for their attention. Then, turning to Miguel, he asked abruptly, “Why did Vonhausel attack Edward Toland and his family after the war was ended, rather than coming directly after Dimilioc, which he should have considered his strongest enemy? If he hated your father so much, why did he wait twenty years before hunting him down? Once your father was dead, why did he trouble to follow his children – not merely to the next village, but across an entire continent?” He paused.

Miguel cleared his throat, but he didn't actually look surprised. Alejandro began to speak, but the Master pinned him with a long, slow stare and said, “Not you. I want your young brother to answer me.” Natividad wasn't sure Alejandro would obey, but Ezekiel shifted his weight and gave her brother a sharp, impatient glance, and Alejandro lowered his gaze.

 “Moon-bound shifters are easy enough to acquire,” rumbled Grayson, “but where is Vonhausel finding his black dogs? Why did he bring down the church? Why did he rush to break your sister's mandala and then press forward into Lewis rather than attacking us here?”

“I don't know, sir,” Miguel said. Then he added, “But I can guess.”

The Master lifted his heavy eyebrows in ironic inquiry.

“Well,” Miguel said rapidly, “You know, I wasn't there for everything, but from what I've heard, Vonhausel really does have too many black dogs. Like, about thirty when he attacked this house, right? And you – we – killed about half of those, but then there were about forty black dogs involved in attacking Lewis, isn't that right? And you fought them there, but even so there were lots left after Vonhausel broke Natividad's mandala and brought down the church. Like, still at least thirty. Which is impossible, from what everyone says, but isn't that right?” He paused, looking at Grayson.

“Go on,” the Master said quietly.

Miguel cleared his throat again. “Well, he's not… He's… Look, this is only a guess. But I think he's cracking open the gates of Hell. I mean, literally. I think you kill his black dogs and send their shadows into the fell dark, but Vonhausel catches them before they're gone. I think he's found a way to put the shadows back again even after their bodies are dead.”