The Killing Dance

My pulse was beating hard enough that I could feel it thrumming against my skin. I was scared. Richard was going to play politics with a bunch of werewolves. Shapeshifters didn't play politics much, they just killed you. But I owed Stephen, and I didn't trust Richard to save him. I'd do whatever it took to see him safe; Richard wouldn't. Richard would hesitate. It would almost surely get him killed one day. Tonight, for the first time, I realized it might get me killed.

No way should we walk into one of Raina's little shows without more people. No way. Jean-Claude would never have tolerated Raina and Marcus's games. They'd be dead by now, and we'd all be safe. I would have trusted Jean-Claude at my back tonight. He wouldn't flinch. Of course, he'd have brought his own little army of vampires and made it a true battle. The shit could hit the fan tonight and be over before morning. Richard's way, we'd rescue Stephen, survive, escape, and Raina would still be alive. Nothing would be settled. It may have been civilized, but it was a bad way to stay alive.

Richard was waiting by the front door, keys in hand, impatient. Couldn't blame him.

"Stephen didn't say where he was. Do you know where they make the films?"

"Yeah."

I looked a question at him. "Raina took me to watch the filming a few times. She thought I'd overcome my shyness and join in."

"You didn't." It wasn't a question.

"Of course not. Let's go get Stephen." He held the door for me, and just this once I didn't tell him not to.

7

I expected Richard to drive into the city, to some disreputable warehouse in a seedy section of town. Instead, he drove further into Jefferson County. We drove down Old Highway 21 between soft, rolling hills, silvered in the moonlight. It was early May, and the trees were already thick with leaves.

Woods hugged the sides of the road. An occasional house would break out of the trees, but for the most part, we were alone in the dark, as if the road stretched out forever and no other human had ever set foot on it.

"What's the plan?" I asked.

Richard glanced at me, then back to the road. "Plan?"

"Yeah, a plan. If Raina's there, she won't be alone, and she won't like you taking Stephen."

"Raina's the alpha female, the lupa. I'm not allowed to fight her."

"Why not?"

"An alpha male becomes Ulfric, wolf king, by killing the old leader, but the wi

"So Raina didn't have to fight for her place?"

"She didn't have to fight to be lupa, but she did have to fight to be the most dominant female in the pack."

"You once told me that the pack considers me a dominant. What's the difference between being a dominant and being an alpha female? I mean, can I be an alpha?"

"Alpha is the equivalent to being a master vampire, sort of," he said.

"So what is a dominant?"

"Anyone not pack, not lukoi, that's earned our respect. Jean-Claude is a dominant. He can't be more unless he becomes pack."

"So you're alpha, but you're not pack leader."

"We have about half a dozen alphas, male and female. I was Marcus's second in command, his Freki."

"Freki is the name of one of Odin's wolves. Why would second wolf be named after something out of mythology?"

"The pack is very old, Anita. Among ourselves, we are the lukoi. There can be two seconds, Freki and Geri."

"Why the history lesson and the new vocabulary?"

"To outsiders, we keep it simple. But I want you to know who and what we are."

"Lukoi is Greek, right?"

He smiled. "But do you know where it's from?"

"No."

"King Lykaon of Arcadia was a werewolf. He didn't try and hide it. We call ourselves the lukoi in his memory."

"If you're not Freki anymore, what are you?"

"Fenrir, challenger."

"The giant wolf that kills Odin at Ragnarok."

"I'm impressed, not many people would know that."

"Two semesters of comparative religion," I said. "Can a woman be Ulfric?"

"Yes, but it's rare."

"Why?"

"They'd have to win a knock-down drag-out physical battle. All the power in the world won't stop someone from pounding your face into the ground."

I would have liked to argue, but I didn't. He was right. Not because I was female. Small men get their asses kicked, too. Size matters if both people are equally well trained.

"Why don't the female alphas have to duke it out to win the top spot?"

"Because the Ulfric and his lupa are a mating pair, Anita. He doesn't want to get stuck with a woman he can't stand."

I looked at him. "Wait a minute. You're next in line to lead the pack. If you succeed Marcus, do you have to sleep with your lupa?"

"Technically, yes."

"Technically?" I said.

"I won't choose one. I won't sleep with someone just so the pack can feel secure."

"Glad to hear it," I said, "but does that jeopardize your standing in the pack?"

He took a deep breath, and I heard it sigh outward. "I have a lot of support among the pack, but some of them are bothered by my morals. They think I should pick a mate."

"And you won't, because . . . of me?"

He glanced at me. "That's a big part of it. It wouldn't be only one time, Anita. An alpha couple binds for life. It's like a marriage. They usually marry each other in real life, not just in the pack."

"I can see why the pack leader gets to pick his mate."

"I've picked my mate," Richard said.

"But I'm not a werewolf."

"No, but the pack considers you a dominant."

"Only because I killed a few of them," I said.

"Well, that does tend to impress them." He slowed down. There was a line of pine trees along the left-hand side of the road, too regular and too thick to be natural. He turned down a gravel driveway in the middle of them.

The driveway curved downhill, and at the bottom of a shallow valley was a farmhouse. Hills thick with trees poured out around the house. If there had ever been fields, the forest had reclaimed them.

The driveway opened into a small gravel lot that was crowded with cars, at least a dozen of them. Richard jerked the car into park and was out the door before I could unbuckle my seat belt. I had to run to catch up and was at his back just as he flung open the barn door. There was a thick wall of cloth hanging inside the door, not a curtain but more a barrier. Richard pulled it aside, and light flooded out around us. He stalked into that light, and I trailed after him.

There were lights everywhere, hanging from the rafters like large, ugly fruit. About twenty people stood around the open interior of the barn. Two cameras were trained on a set, made up of two walls and a king-size bed. Two cameramen were sort of draped on the cameras, waiting. A long table thick with take-out bags and cold pizza was set near the entrance. Over a dozen people were clustered around the food. They glanced at us as we entered. A handful of humans looked hurriedly away and began inching back. The lycanthropes stared, their eyes almost motionless, intent. I suddenly knew what it must feel like to be a gazelle near a lion pack.

At least two-thirds of the people in the barn were shape-shifters. Probably, they weren't all werewolves. I couldn't tell what animal they might be by looking, but I knew they were all shapeshifters. Their energy burned through the air like a hint of lightning. Even with the Uzi, if things went wrong, I was in trouble. I was suddenly angry with Richard. We shouldn't have come alone like this. It was too careless for words.

A woman stepped out of the group. She had what looked like an industrial-strength makeup kit on her shoulder. Her dark hair was shaved close to her head, leaving a very pretty face open and clean, without a drop of makeup on it.

She moved uncertainly towards us as if afraid she'd get bitten. The air vibrated around her, a tiny shimmer, as though reality was just a little less firm than it should be around her. Lycanthrope. I wasn't sure what flavor, but that really didn't matter. Whatever the flavor, they were dangerous.