Chapter 34
Valens
Addressing the Interspecies Governing Council was not going high on my list of favorite life experiences.
In fact, it was probably somewhere near the bottom, just above replacing septic systems and just under a formal dinner with twenty-seven tiny forks and an all-vegetarian mousse-based menu.
Wolves were not herbivores, and this particular wolf was no politician.
“But Councilman Aliz, they saw it with their own eyes. You want to dispute their findings when they stand here giving a ratified report on behalf of Councilman Vasilescu about incidents that occurred inside his territory?” Councilwoman Grist, a majestic female gryphon whose beak movements disconcertingly didn’t match the way her words came out, clicked her talons on the tabletop.
“I’m not saying they’re lying, only that it’s possible they’ve drawn a false conclusion. That is all.” The lesser fae representative didn’t bother to look Grist’s way. No, instead, he stared down at the tablet in front of him as if his job as a representative of his people was beneath him.
“There is more.” I interrupted the five-minute-and-counting argument the two of them had been having about the veracity of our claims. “We’ve also received a personal phone call from the elder of Wrenchet, the Ontario goblin clan.”
Councilman Lug, the goblin representative, sat straighter in his seat, adjusting wire-framed glasses that looked like they were made from…
paper clips? Perhaps it was something else, but they definitely weren’t store-bought.
“You heard from Elder Sprocket? How did you come to make her acquaintance?”
I didn’t actually know the answer to that, being a newcomer to the Blackwater pack. Elodie did, though.
“We fought at their side when Wrenchet was attacked last month. Many goblin lives were lost, despite our best efforts, and much of the city burned.” She shifted from foot to foot, and I saw her catch herself before she touched her sword, a habit she had when angered by something.
Councilman Lug fell back in his seat. “The city of Wrenchet was burned? Why was I not informed of this attack?” He turned accusing eyes down the length of the table, where potent silence reigned.
Goblins? Not in with the pixies. I made mental notes as I scanned every face, looking for any cracks, any signs of weakness or strife. But damn them, the council members had excellent poker faces. Not a one showed anything more than mild concern.
Except the lesser fae, who still looked bored. I’m putting you in the suspicious-as-fuck column.
Lug turned back our way, an anxious furrow between his wispy white brows. “I would love to speak with you both when the council is no longer sitting to receive a full accounting of what transpired at Wrenchet and get the name of the goblins who are missing.”
“Of course, Councilman,” Elodie answered with a polite nod.
“You should have the details, after all. You’re their chosen representative to this council.
It seems odd that you were left out of the loop on such a large-scale attack.
I would hate to think what else the council may have gone uninformed of. ”
A murmur rose from the table as many people shifted in their seats or on their feet, if they were standing.
“That is a heavy accusation for one unfamiliar with the council’s ways, young lady,” Councilman Fortier snapped in a furious tone.
“One, you may refer to me as Maiden Elodie or Maiden Carmichael, as is the respect due my position. Two, it was not an accusation but an observation. The clowder was very concerned that their multiple reports of their missing clowder mate were falling on deaf ears with the council. It is only right that we bring this concern directly to you for correction. It is your job, after all.”
Fortier took his chastisement in silence, but that only left open air for another council member to jump into the fray.
“Is that true, Councilman Halia? Have you been letting other shifters disappear while you sat idle?” Councilwoman Rubix, the vampire, asked, an edge of mirth to her voice.
Vampires and shifters had no love lost between them, and it was clear she found the whole thing amusing.
And if my past experience with vampires was any indication, beneath her concern.
“I have received no reports of any such thing!” The owl shifter seemed to puff up even in human form, as if she wanted to ruffle up her nonexistent feathers.
Instead, she settled for pushing up her round-rimmed glasses and shooting a nasty look at the vampire.
“I would be happy to provide a full accounting of all reports I’ve received regarding my constituents.
There are zero disappearances listed this year, including that of Leon from the clowder. ”
Not aligned with the pixies. Good to know, but not surprising given the kidnappings and attempts on Kane’s life. Someone is intercepting the information before it gets to her desk.
Lucien suspected Fortier was truly neutral, as was the centaur way.
By my mental accounting, that only left Rubix of the vampires, Coruscate of the witches and warlocks, Sol for the elemental species, and Grist for the collected species who chose to forgo their own representative as still undecided on alliances.
At this point, I was certain the lesser fae were in on whatever the hell the pixies had planned.
But how did we get them to reveal their allegiances without throwing further accusations?
Lucien had been very clear that angering them would shut off the flow of information, so perhaps we should start with discussions with the two representatives who were visibly under attack.
If nothing else, it would gain us access to the private office areas of the building, where we could snoop a bit more.
But we still had one last piece of information to relay.
“We would love to make an appointment with you at your earliest convenience to review those records, Councilman Halia, and compare what you have with the reports Alpha Vasilescu has been receiving directly. There is, unfortunately, one more abduction to report, and that is Sandrine the gnome, who we have also confirmed to be missing.”
That ruffled Grist’s feathers, since gnomes fell under her vast jurisdiction. “Sandrine, the famed gnomish alchemical crafter?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And how can you be sure he didn’t just leave in a hurry? He’s known to be reclusive and scatterbrained when caught in a project. Perhaps he’s gone off to collect some mineral in the wilds needed for his latest creation.”
“That may have been what we suspected too, had his home not been in such bad repair. We found it visibly damaged, the front door hanging off the hinges when we arrived. There were signs of burglary: cabinets opened and belongings destroyed. The hearthstone was shattered.” Audible gasps filled the chamber.
“There were no signs of a planned trip. Only destruction and a scuffle. There was also blood on the hearthstone.”
Grist sucked in a hissing breath, eyes wide with alarm.
“I have received no reports of this either, though that is less surprising. A reclusive crafter has few who would expect him or go looking to report his absence. I will investigate his disappearance at once. I suggest an immediate recess of this council so that we may all do our due diligence. Assuming, of course, that you have no more awful news to throw at us?”
“No, Councilwoman. We’ve reported all four disappearances that were conveyed to us. We will be staying here, I as Alpha Vasilescu’s delegate, until further notice. If any of you have follow-up questions or concerns, please let us know.”
I bowed politely, but not so deeply as to imply any of their stations were above Lucien’s, as did Elodie, and then we excused ourselves from the council’s meeting room.
We rode the elevators straight up to our apartment, and it wasn’t until the door shut behind us that I felt like my shoulders could begin to unknot.
“I fucking hate politics,” I grumbled, striding into the room, wishing I could work off some of my pent-up frustration somehow.
Elodie snorted. “Really? I thought your thinly veiled disdain down there was a sign of enjoyment.”
I groaned, turning to face her. “Was I that bad? I was trying, but I’m not as smooth as Lucien or Reed.”
She chuckled, the throaty, low sound sending a pulse of need to my cock, which I tried—and failed—to ignore.
“No, I imagine most of them didn’t even notice.
They don’t know you that well, and you stayed polite and factual.
That’s the most important thing. I’m more worried I stepped in it by correcting Fortier when he called me young lady.
It pissed me off.” She crossed her arms, scowling.
“Why do men in power think they can talk down to women? I’m not his fucking daughter, I’m an official representative of the enclave. ”
“Any chance to flex their power is one they’ll take.
I wouldn’t expect any less. And it might even have been an attempt to ruffle you up, see if you’d snap.
I think you handled it fine too. Besides…
Fortier knows we’re collecting stone shards, since he was there on Nisí Mythou.
I sincerely doubt he’s shared that fact with the rest of the council, and the centaurs weren’t exactly pleased to lose their piece…
I think we’re going to catch some flak.”
She groaned. “You’re probably right. It just sucks, and normally I’d be more patient, but I swear my temper is rising the closer the heat gets.”
“Yeah?” I crossed the distance between us, then turned her, so her back was to me. When I rested my hands on her shoulders, I could feel all the tension she was holding there, just like mine. The first time my thumb dug into a knot, she moaned, and then my cock was at immediate attention.
Damn, but this woman had a hold on me like nothing else. And I had no desire to shake it. Trying to take things at her pace was the hard part, but my wolf was a patient hunter. He seemed to know instinctively that we couldn’t push her and was happy to wait on her pleasure.
“Goddess, you always seem to know how to make me feel better, even when I’m being a bitch.”
I snorted, leaning forward so she could see my face. “You’re not being a bitch. Fortier insulted you, and I’m insulted on your behalf. But you handled it, and he deserved it. If anyone’s a bitch, it’s the man-baby centaur.”
She giggled. “Man-baby, really?”
“You know what they say, if the horseshoe fits.”
She fell back against me, letting her back nestle against my front, turning her face to the side and stealing a not-so-sneaky whiff of my scent as I wrapped my arms around her waist.
“Feel better?”
“Yes.” I held her in comfortable silence for a few heartbeats, until the shrill ring of my cell interrupted the moment.
I lifted it, seeing the council’s in-house area code. “Duty calls, I’m afraid,” I murmured in her ear, sad our moment of peace ended so soon.