Страница 15 из 81
“Do you, um, have . . . preferences?”
“Preferences?”
“Like . . . AB, or O negative, or . . .”
“Ah.” I shake my head. Common misconception, but cold blood is nearly flavorless, and the only things that would influence its taste would disqualify people from donating in the first place. Illnesses, mostly.
“And when do you . . . ?”
“Feed? Once a day. More when it gets really warm—heat makes us hungry.” He looks queasy at the mention of blood, more so than I’d have expected from someone who turns into a wolf and mauls rabbits by the litterful. So I wander away to give him a minute to recover, taking in the stone accent wall and the fireplace. Despite the chill, there’s something just right about this house. As though its place was meant to be here, carved between the trees and the waterfront.
It’s probably the nicest home I’ve ever lived in. Not bad, since there’s a nonzero chance that I’ll also croak in it.
“Are you one of his seconds?” I ask Alex, turning away from the waves lapping at the pier. “More— Lowe’s, I mean.”
“No.” He’s younger, softer than Juno. Not as defensive and buttoned up, but more jittery. I’ve caught him squinting at the points of my ears three times already. “Ludwig is . . . The second from my huddle is someone else.”
His what? “How many seconds does Lowe have?”
“Twelve.” He pauses to stare at his feet. “Eleven, actually, now that Gabrielle was sent to the . . .”
Gabrielle, I file away for future perusal. God, is that the mate? Was she his wife and his second?
Alex clears his throat. “Gabrielle will be replaced.”
“By you?”
“No, I wouldn’t . . . And I’m not from her huddle; it’ll have to be someone who . . .” He scratches his neck and falls silent. Oh, well.
“Are there any close neighbors?” I ask.
“Yeah. But ‘close’ is different for us. Because we can . . .”
“Transform into wolves?”
“No. Well, yeah, but . . .” His cheeks have an olive tinge. God, I think he’s blushing. Because of course they’d flush green. “Shift. We call it shifting. We don’t become something else. We just kind of toggle between two settings.”
This time I do smile, keeping my lips sealed. “Love the coding references.”
“You like tech?”
“I like what tech can do.” I lean against the counter. Years with the Humans, and I’m still freaked out that houses contain entire huge-ass rooms dedicated to the preparation of food. “So, when you guys shift into wolves, do you still think the same way? Does your brain shift with you, too?”
Alex mulls it. “Yes and no. There are some instincts that take over in that form, more than they otherwise would. The impulse to hunt, for instance, is very powerful. To chase a scent, track down an enemy. That’s why you maybe shouldn’t venture out alone to . . .”
“Ski
He looks away. He’s kind of adorable, in an I want to tie his shoelaces and blow on his ski
I tilt my head. “Don’t what?”
“Shift into animals. Not that I believe the bat rumor, but just in case you’re going to fly away and . . .”
I bet Alex gets along great with Ana. “Nope, I do not turn into a bat. Would be lovely, though.”
“Okay, good.” He seems incredibly relieved. I decide to take advantage of that, broadcasting a mix of casualness and very mild interest in my surroundings, then say offhandedly:
“Can you shift into a wolf whenever you want? Or is the full moon thing just a rumor?”
“It depends, I guess.”
“On what?”
“How powerful a Were is. Being able to shift at will, it’s a sign of dominance. Being able to avoid shifting during the full moon, too.”
I don’t know what possesses me to ask, “What about Lowe? Is he powerful?”
Alex lets out a startled laugh. “He is the most powerful Were I’ve ever seen. And that my grandfather has ever seen—and he’s seen many Alphas.”
“Oh.” I pick up a ladle. Or a spatula. I forgot which one is which. “Is he powerful because he can shift whenever he wants?”
Alex frowns. “No. That’s just part of who he is, but—everyone knew that he had the making of an Alpha.” His eyes are starting to shine. A Moreland stan, clearly. “He was the fastest ru
“Not a dumb move, since in the end Lowe killed Roscoe.”
Alex blinks at me. “He didn’t kill him. He challenged him, and Roscoe died through that process.”
There must be cultural nuances that I’m not grasping here, not to mention that Roscoe was, by all accounts, a bloodthirsty sadist. Doesn’t seem like a huge loss, so I don’t press it. “Is my roomie Lowe usually gone during the day?” It’s about six p.m., but I can’t hear anyone moving about the place. Maybe Moreland is avoiding home because I stank it up? I took a bath when I woke up, and soaked for a long time. Not quite an olive branch, but . . . an olive. “What about Ana?”
“Ana is with Juno.” Alex shrugs. “Lowe is off to deal with the sabotage that happened this morning, and . . .”
I cock my head, and it’s a mistake—too much broadcasted interest. Alex takes a step back, clearing his throat. “Actually, they’re out on a run,” he says, and he must be the worst liar I’ve ever seen. I’m tempted to pat his back, let him know that he’s doing great and won’t go to hell for making stuff up.
Instead, I push harder. “Have you ever seen Humans in this house?”
“Humans?” His brow furrows. “Like who?”
Serena’s face flashes through my head. She’s rolling her eyes because I’m wearing a galaxy T-shirt I got for free when I bought a lava lamp. Who wears this, Misery? No—who buys a lava lamp?
“Any Human.” I shrug artfully. “Just curious.”
I don’t think he buys it. “I’ve never seen a Human in Were territory.” He gives me a suspicious look. I’ve played my hand too heavily. “And this is the Alpha’s home. A place for Weres to feel safe.”
“Except, now I live here.” I play with my silver wedding band—a habit I’ve picked up in less than twenty-four hours. I’ve never been much for jewelry, but maybe I’ll keep it when I find Serena and this is over. Or buy one of those mood rings that think Vampyres are always sad because our body temperature is low. “Why?”
“Um, what do you mean?”
“I’m just surprised Lowe would want me around.”
“You’re married.”
“Not for real, though. Lowe and I didn’t meet on a Caribbean vacation and fall in love while getting our scuba diving certificates.”
“It’s not a matter of love.”
I lift my eyebrow.
“Having you live with him—it’s about protection. Making a commitment. Sending a message. They know you’re not his true wife or his mate or anything.”
Ah, yes, the famed mate. Who probably used to live in his house. I nod, not quite understanding. Then again, I don’t understand Humans or Vampyres, either. I’m sure the Weres have their reasons to do what they do.
Just like I have mine.
“So, I shouldn’t head out on my own, but inside the house I can be wherever I want?”
Alex’s shoulders relax at the change of topic. “Sure. Maybe stay out of Lowe’s and Ana’s rooms. And his office.”
“Of course.” I smile just a little. Fangless. “And where’s the office?”
He points at the hallway behind me. “Left, then right.”
“Perfect. I just hope I don’t get lost.” I shrug airily, and plant my first lie: “My orientation skills are pretty bad.”
The first time I searched online for L. E. Moreland, I found two things: a semi-defunct GeoCities website promoting a wholly defunct real estate agent, and the infinite vastness of nothing.
So I searched again, the way penetration testers do: with some disregard for doors. I jumped a fence or two, slithered between gates’ pickets, took advantage of windows left half open by their owners.