Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Noah
Eleven a.m. the next morning, I wait by the bushes in a nearby park. I’m in wolf form, hiding so no one spots an unleashed dog that’s bigger than a Great Pyrenees crossed with a Great Dane. My wolf is a bit smaller than most, so I can pass as a huge hound.
“There you are.” Esme waves as she sidles up to me.
She’s in her usual outfit of black jeans and a cropped black leather jacket over a band t-shirt.
Now I’m realizing she’s always wearing the perfect outfit for an art or jewelry heist. Her long, dark hair is braided down her back, so it can be tucked away.
She crouches down, pretending to pet me, and slips a collar around my neck.
When I look up, she’s holding a bright pink leash.
For the disguise, she signs, tucking the leash under her arm.
She and her family already used a series of hand signals for the heists and scams they run, so when we became friends, she asked me to teach her some ASL.
For the next forty-five minutes, you’re Bubbles.
Bubbles? I cock my ears, giving her a wolfish scowl.
She grins and keeps signing, All part of the plan. My friend Ciara is going to walk you past the museum, and then you know what to do. I left your clothes in the second stall of the men’s bathroom on the first floor. It has an ‘out of order’ sign on it.
I woof to let her know I got it.
Awesome. See you tonight at the usual spot. You ready?
I rise to my feet. I put a little stiffness into my hips, so I’m moving like an older dog and let her lead me up the path.
Because of her upbringing, she’s used to shifters.
She’s fully human although I can scent a little extra about her.
Underneath the scent of light roast coffee, there’s an undertone of Old World incense that makes me want to sneeze but also something more that reminds me of the extra dimensions of Aster’s scent.
Maybe she has extra abilities, like Aster.
That would explain why she’s such a good thief.
A gorgeous brunette with brown skin a little darker than Esme’s is waiting for us on the path. This must be Ciara. Esme greets her and hands her the leash. I read their lips as Esme explains that I’m Bubbles, and all Ciara needs to do is walk me through the park. “He’s trained to do the rest.”
Ciara cocks an eyebrow, looking skeptical, but nods. She’s wearing a stylish camel-colored coat and cloying perfume that makes my nose twitch, but I get that she’s dolled up to look expensive. She and I are going to be the distraction.
“Have fun.” Esme backs up and pulls a cap over her head. She’s going to get the jewel–she’s done this before.
I never thought I’d have a jewel thief for a friend, but she’s come in handy. I wonder if Ciara helps her with other jobs, too. This is my first time assisting with a heist, but I intend to pull my part off perfectly.
Esme heads off on her own. We wait until she disappears behind the art museum, and then Ciara and I stroll down the wide path through the park. I trot alongside Ciara, letting her camel coat brush against my fur. I let my tongue loll out like I’m a good boy.
When she stops on the path to check her purse, it’s showtime.
I dart past the end of my leash, ripping it from Ciara’s hand. She’s wearing gloves, so it won’t hurt, and this needs to look convincing. Ciara’s supposed to wander around the park, pretending to look for me and then disappear.
Meanwhile, I race through the park and across the road, dodging cars, running like I’m chasing a squirrel.
I reach the steps of the museum and tear up them, a wolf on a mission.
There’s a man in front of me about to enter the museum.
I time things perfectly, so I charge through the door behind him and push him off balance enough to send him and his umbrella flying.
I take a moment to check on the guy I knocked over. He’s red-faced but fine. Just to make sure, I leap onto him and start licking his face.
His mouth opens in a shout as he thrashes and tries to push me off. I’m too heavy.
It gives me a moment to case the space. There’s a metal detector set up in front of me. There’s no line, just three security guards who are whirling around, reacting to the chaos.
Two of them rush over to help pull me off the guy. I wait until they’re almost on me, then whirl, bounding to the gate on the right side of the metal detector. It’s meant to keep humans in, not dogs, so it’s easy enough to leap over it.
And just like that, I’m in. I tear through the museum rooms, startling patrons and knocking over every able-bodied security guard I can find. They’re armed with badges and flashlights, not guns, so it’s perfectly safe. Just good clean fun.
Esme needs about fifteen minutes to get in, get the tiara, and get out.
It’s my job to keep all the attention focused on the front of the museum until then.
I loop back towards the check-in counter and dive behind the cafe counter, grabbing a croissant as I go.
I pause to wolf it down right in front of an entire class of sixth graders who are recording me on their phones.
Then my entourage shows up–an assortment of security guards and heroic bystanders who are chasing me.
I let them try to corral me, jumping up and down like it’s a game.
Then I make another break for it. I dart behind a group with a crying child and yelling parent, then slip around a corner in a thankfully empty hall, running everyone ragged until I’ve lost them.
I manage to reach the first-floor men’s bathroom of the old 1920’s building, where Esme told me she left my clothes.
Esme’s scent is here, faint, on the artsy museum bag that she stashed in the out-of-order stall.
I shift to human form, shaking off the tingles, so I can dress quickly.
I exit the stall and force open the window, just wide enough for a big dog to leap out of.
Then I exit the bathroom with the museum bag slung over my shoulder.
The whole museum smells like human sweat and stress. I keep my features neutral and walk up to a museum attendant obviously on the lookout for a giant dog to come tearing by.
“What’s going on?” I sign while I speak.
The attendant shifts their focus to me, turning to face me fully when they realize that I’m deaf. “A dog got in here. It’s big.” They mime. “Have you seen it?”
I tell them no and take my leave, heading to the museum exit.
Every human I pass is on high alert, either looking for a dog or talking excitedly about it and showing their friends footage on their phone.
This event will be all over social media, but I bet the museum pulls strings to keep it hushed up in the official news media.
Especially once they discover the tiara is missing.
I can’t keep a smirk off my face as I stroll out the front door. It all went perfectly to plan.
I’ll meet Esme tonight at our favorite coffee shop and get the tiara then. At that point, I’ll have to figure out what to do with it. Esme might have some ideas.
One thing’s for sure, the Adalwulfs will have to find another powerful gemstone to power their ceremony.
Aster
I’m seated by the fire in my suite’s sitting room, trying to meditate, when I hear a roll of psychic thunder.
It’s my only warning before the heavy wooden doors burst open, and Aiden storms in, with a wave of power that hits me like a tsunami.
“What did you do?” he growls. His alpha tone makes me want to bare my throat.
I tilt my chin slightly, averting my gaze, but keep my face impassive. Times like these, I remember how Oma used to let the alpha temper roll over her, never cowering. She didn’t react. She was like a weathered stone standing upright and unmoved through a raging storm.
She also never answered a direct question. Instead, she asked her own.
“What has happened?” I ask, keeping my voice low and melodic. I project an aura of calm.
It helps that I was obviously meditating.
I’m sitting on a cushion on the floor, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender and rosemary, the herbs I threw on the fire to break up the oppressive stuffiness of the room.
The Adalwulf’s city mansion is beautiful, full of art and antiques, but needs a good cleaning.
I don’t think the windows have been opened since the place was built in the Gilded Age.
With the herbs and velvet pouch of ancient bones in front of me, I look like a Seeress plying my craft, and feel less like an employee caught slacking off by their asshole boss.
“The Tiara of Ix-Chel. It’s gone missing.” Aiden paces the ancient Oriental rug, growling under his breath. He’s dressed for work in one of his well-tailored gray suits.
“Missing?” I echo. It’s a ploy to get more information, and it works.
“Houserman just called. Apparently someone broke in earlier today and took it, and he waited until now to break the news. I was on my way to purchase it.” His lip curls, and I feel a moment of pity for Dr. Houserman, having to disappoint Aiden. No wonder he waited until the last possible minute.
“He suspects us.”
“Us? Why would we steal it? We were going to purchase it.”
“That’s exactly what I told him.” Aiden stomps around the room, sneering at gilt framed oil paintings and Tiffany lamps alike.
“In fact, I would’ve taken possession of it immediately after you confirmed its power had I known the museum was going to completely bungle its security and allow it to be stolen.
” He marches around a Louis XIV era armchair to stand over me, glowering.
“You didn’t have any vision, any premonition that it would be taken? ”
“No,” I say clearly because it’s not a lie. “When I have a vision that would help the pack, I share it.” I’m still telling the truth. I just refuse to share any visions that lead us to war. Or put a spotlight on the man who held me in the elevator.
“Would you?” Aiden asks in a soft tone. Danger, my intuition blares. “Otto tells me you were reluctant to expose yourself to its power again. If I find out you had anything to do with this…”
A picture flashes through my mind. The man’s face, the one I’ve been seeing, dreaming about. Could he be involved? My intuition says yes.
I lick my lips, and Aiden’s eyes flash silver, as if his wolf has scented prey.
I need a diversion, and I need it fast. “Why would I? I seek power to guide the pack toward its purpose.” I sweep a hand out toward the fire.
“Ever since yesterday, I’ve been here, centering myself, preparing for the ritual.
” Beseeching the Grandmothers for a way to thwart it and avoiding Vera, who’s staying in the room next door.
“Do you think the director could’ve managed it?
He didn’t want the tiara to be taken from the museum. You can ask Otto.”
Aiden stares at me. Testing me for weakness.
I inhale the soothing scent of lavender and wait for the storm to pass.
“Otto tells me you’ve been eating meat.”
“I required strength after handling the tiara. It left me drained.”
“The seeress shall not eat the flesh of any animal. So it is written in the Book of the Moonborn, according to the Warden.”
Yes, the Book of the Moonborn, the one that only the Warden is allowed to read.
I’m sure it says a lot about how to starve the cult members as a way to keep them under the leadership’s thumb.
Liora, one of the Moonborn who helped raise me before I was sent to train with Oma, told me that every month there are long fasts she and the others are required to participate in, even if they’re underage or nursing a pup.
I stop my lip from curling, but Aiden smirks, sensing my insubordination. “The Warden is keen to aid you in accessing your gift again. He will oversee your fast.”
I know what’s happening here. They want me weak. I'm already underfed. My wolf needs meat. I rise to my feet because I’m done taking this sitting down. “That won’t be necessary.”
“I think it is. And don’t worry,” he adds silkily, “I understand that all this opulence,” he waves a hand at the over-decorated room, “Impedes your visions. You’ll be returning to Adalwulf land immediately.
” He strides to the door where I can scent Otto and the others waiting outside, ready to drag me away.
“There you will remain in isolation in the tower until you produce the intel we need.”
“Exactly what intel do you need?” I ask. I’m feeling desperate, and he can probably smell it, but I’m getting better at asking questions, probing for information, taking the power back.
“Any intel that helps us destroy the Blackthroats.”
I hesitate. This is the exact intel I don’t want to give.
But what choice do I have?
Aiden opens the door and signals my handlers to enter. “It’s your choice, Aster. Give me what I want, or I’ll give you to the Warden to breed a new generation, and he’ll make sure your children will be trained to serve the pack properly.”