CHAPTER 8

"Have you eaten?" I asked, feigning confidence as I moved past Anthony and walked toward the kitchen.

I was starving. Werewolves were always hungry, but I'd used my wolf's abilities more than a little the night before, and I was healing too.

"I could eat again," he looked at me as we walked, obviously wanting to say something.

"What is it?"

"Why didn't you call for backup last night?"

Oh. I tried not to show my disappointment.

"I had it handled."

"You had at least eight werewolves in a shootout." Anthony said flatly. "You dove through a second story window."

"But I lived," I turned the corner into the kitchen. Martha stood in front of the massive stainless steel stove, steam whooshing up in front of her. the scent of bacon washed over me and suddenly I was starving.
"Martha, I love you so much," I told the woman who was Rob's cook as well as his munitions expert.

"Of course you do," Martha nodded, tossed a pile of bacon and six eggs onto a massive plate where three slices of homemade bread already sat buttered and placing it on the kitchen island where I'd taken a seat. I withheld the urge to dive in like a wild animal and managed to temper my hunger until Anthony had a plate too.

"You didn't call for backup," he told me, continuing our conversation around a bite of bacon.

"Didn't need it." I shoved an entire bacon strip in my mouth, quickly followed by a bite of toast smeared with egg yolk.

"That was only luck, if things had gone any different you might have needed it."

"But I didn't." And the conversation was getting annoying. "You get your shipment yet, Martha?" I asked.

Martha grinned at me from where she'd begun scrubbing the pans, her black curls had been pinned tightly back a red polka-dotted apron covering a form softened with age. She looked like a typical Italian nonna.
"Yes! Those mongrels aren't going to know what hit them. One bullet and they'll be out for at least a week, dead if you hit them in the brain."

Okay, so...not so typical. I was really, really glad she was on my side.

"You're avoiding the conversation," Anthony accused.

I shovelled more breakfast in my mouth, my stomach still cramping with hunger. "Yes, because it's silly. Everything worked out."

"He's right, you know," Martha said from the sink. "You have back up for a reason, not everything has to be done alone."

Why were they ganging up on me?

"I promise if I need backup I'll call for it. There was no need for anyone else to get involved last night. It would have become way too complicated and given the Terror's knowledge that Rob was behind it."

You'd think that would have settled it, but beside me Anthony huffed out a frustrated breath and I could see Martha shaking her head. I didn't get it. Rob didn't want the Terrors to know he was keeping tabs on them, it's why I was sent in. And in the end they didn't. So why was I being reprimanded like a small child?

I ate for the next few moments in silence.

"Are you running tonight?" Anthony asked, changing the subject.

It was the full moon. And while fairy tales had gotten most of werewolf mythology very wrong, we did feel a stronger connection to our wolves depending on the moon's cycle, and we liked to celebrate it. Usually by changing and letting the wolf free for a while. It sort of re-set the balance since most of us were entrenched in the human world enough to lose a bit of the wildness that we once thrived on.

I nodded. "I'll be there." My wolf certainly deserved it.

She preened a bit at the thought.

"Good," Anthony finished his plate and stood gathering the dishes to take to Martha.

I watched him, chewing the last of my meal.

Good. I wasn't sure what to make of that. Did he think it was good because I needed to get out, or was it good because he wanted me there, with him?

When he passed back by the island he stopped behind me, leaning forward, a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"I'll see you there, Rave," he told me, leaning in slightly so that his breath stirred the hairs on the back of my neck. A delicious shiver ran through me, stirring a different kind of hunger. He left before I could do anything about it though.

Martha made a sort of humming noise, but I ignored it, taking my dishes to her and escaping before I got another lecture.

Rob was in his office, a massive room that took up half of the third floor. A heavy wooden desk sat against one wall, a fireplace against the other. Floor to ceiling windows let natural light in the room and nearly every vertical surface was covered in bookshelves. A massive round table sat on an expensive looking rug at the center of the office, lined with chairs that would be filled during pack meetings. Rob's organization employed thousands, when it all came down to it, but very few ever made it to the manse. One had to be trusted for that, and Rob didn't trust easily.

He looked up from behind his desk when I knocked on the door frame.

"Raven, good. Come, I want to show you something."

Curious I crossed the room, savoring the scent of books and old things, stopping before him. He pushed a set of papers toward me, I recognized them from the night before. He leaned forward pointing at an entry.

I scanned the neat writing. Most of it meant nothing to me, but my breath stopped where Rob's finger ended. There in the description of the crate.

Thostchild VI-9921764.

"It's the same name."

I'd showed him what I'd found near my parents' bodies. I wasn't sure if it was theirs, or if their murderers had dropped it. All I knew was that I'd never seen it before, and aside from the scents I'd caught it was my only clue.

Rob nodded. "I know. I've had guys looking into Thostchild for five years without a single hint. There's no record of a name or business with that title as far back as history goes in the entire United States. But I kept looking because a business cannot run entirely in secret. Not forever. And now the name shows up hereassociated with this, they symbol that keeps turning up when business goes to shit," he tapped the pendant. "I'm not sure what it means, Raven, but I made a promise, I am good for it."
I glanced at the other names on the paper, my adrenaline rising. At least one of them should know something about this Thostchild. Finally, I was closing in on some answers.

"I'll find the shipper and question him tonight," I told him.

"No, you wont," Rob pulled the papers back and for a moment I knew exactly what it was like to want to commit murder.

"You promised, you just said it," I growled.

"I promised to help you find vengeance, yes, and I stand by that. What I will not do, however, is stand by while you throw yourself into danger without a solid lead." His face and tone said he had expected my outburst.
"I will send wolves to investigate, and when we have someone you will be the first to have a go at them."
I didn't like it. I was restless for action and he was stripping it from me.

"You're too valuable to lose over this, Raven."

Right, because he needed my wolf for his business. I knew how much he'd expanded since I came on board. I was worth a lot of money to him and he didn't want to lose that investment.

"You won't go yourself, Raven. Promise me, or I'll have you locked up until this is over."

He'd do it too. Oh it would be a luxurious prison, but I'd be prisoner all the same.

I let out a heavy sigh. "Fine, I promise," I told him.

But I lied.