Chapter Thirty-Three
Emerson
I’m in a daze. I feel as though I’m in a nightmare, truly, every part of the night jumbling together until I’m not sure where the truth ends and my worries begin.
I’m certain there’s some overlap, anyway.
Kieran has my phone. He and the two men with him follow Jamie and me into the house, where Nick is waiting, pacing up and down in the living room.
He makes a relieved sound when he sees us and envelops Jamie in a hug. “You said you’d let me know you were both okay.”
“No time,” Jamie says, but now he looks a little dazed himself. Nick frowns when he approaches me, and I want to cry when he hugs me, too. I’m not expecting it.
“We need to talk about all this,” Kieran says.
Nick glares at him, which surprises me. Kieran is clearly important, but he gives off a calm aura, and that’s probably the only thing that hasn’t had me running out of here yet.
Well, that and clearly there’s something not human about his very good-looking boyfriend. That’s a good enough incentive to stay put.
Nick draws me over to the sofa, where he sits me in the middle. He’s on one side, Jamie’s on the other.
“Can I…” I swallow, lick my lips. “Can I have my phone?”
Kieran sits in one of the armchairs and shakes his head. “You’re kidding, right?”
“A friend of mine. She’ll have seen the stream. She’ll be worried.”
“Just give it to him,” the shorter man with Kieran says. He gives me a little wave. “I’m Sam, by the way. Not much time for introductions back there, was there? Lucien, want to give me a hand in the kitchen?”
Kieran’s boyfriend blinks in surprise but stands from where he’s perched on the arm of Kieran’s chair and agreeably follows Sam into the kitchen. Kieran sighs. “Fine. Here.”
He hands over my phone. Unsurprisingly, I have about fifty texts and missed calls from Cate, texts that appear to be increasingly worried and angry. I can’t call her, not now.
I’m okay. Will explain when I come back.
It’s a given that I’m going back there. I can’t stay here. Even if they’d let me, I betrayed Patch’s trust. All the wolves’ trust. They’re right. Why did I think the livestream was a good idea? For fifty grand?
I let out a shaky breath. Jamie rests one hand on my back, between my shoulder blades. I turn my head and look at him.
He doesn’t look angry. Why doesn’t he look angry?
Voices come from the kitchen, a low murmur even under the sound of the kettle boiling. Nick shifts next to me. “What happened, then? Someone scared him.” His tone is accusatory, but Kieran doesn’t appear surprised by that at all.
He explains what he knows, and I add details where needed. It’s not a long tale. Nick scowls, though, when we’re done, each of us now holding a scalding mug of tea.
“He doesn’t have to go.”
“If Deacon says so, then yes, he does.”
“Last I checked, we’re human,” Nick scoffs. “If Deacon’s got a problem, he can go find a copper or something. Seems like Patch is the issue, really.”
I jolt. Jamie’s fingers dig into my leg. “How’d you get to that, then?”
“Come on.” Nick rolls his eyes. “He could have fucking said. Instead, he had to be all dramatic and such a show-off about it, just because he wanted to, what, one-up you and steal—”
“Shut up,” Jamie mutters, and Nick does. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Well, we’re not going to solve that bit tonight,” Sam says. “But Ophelia and Dante are on their way. Have you got any better coffee, by the way? Don’t think Lark is going to appreciate me asking him to open early, and Ophelia does not like waking up at the crack of dawn.”
I fight the sudden urge to yawn. Is it that early?
“Yeah, I’ll find something,” Nick says. He pats me on the shoulder before he gets up and heads into the kitchen. Sam sits in the other armchair, a shrewdness in his gaze as it darts between me and Jamie.
I guess now we wait.
Lucien leaves around an hour later, and half an hour after that, two new people arrive. I don’t move a muscle in all that time. I daren’t. Nick tries to urge me to go and rest, or change, and Jamie does wander off for a little bit, but I can’t bring myself to move.
Kieran doesn’t move, either. Sam flits about, and Nick seems to be less hostile to him than to Kieran, but Kieran stays looking at me, as though he’s trying to get to the bottom of something.
Cate has already sent me another dozen texts, of course. I’m hoping they’ll leave me alone long enough at some point that I can call her, but I’ll understand if they don’t trust me with my phone.
I’ll call her from one of theirs. That’s fine.
The woman walks in first. She’s holding a takeaway coffee cup, but she still looks half-asleep. Sam immediately stands to let her take his seat, which she curls up into, resting her chin on her hand. “It’s fucking early.”
“We know,” Sam says.
The man who accompanies her is heavier set, hair a riot of loose green curls. He looks marginally more awake, though he at least has a smile ready, which he even turns on me.
“You’re Em, then?”
“I—” My voice comes out hoarse. Jamie presses his thigh against mine. I feel like I should move away, but I don’t want to. “Yeah. I am.”
“I’m Dante.” He points at the woman. “Ophelia. You think she’d have learnt manners at some point, but…”
Ophelia sticks her middle finger up at him. “Should’ve waited until midday. He’s not going to be awake, you know.”
“We need to make this work sooner rather than later,” Kieran says. “It’s important.”
“I know, I know.” She yawns, then drains the rest of her coffee in one go. Sam plucks the cup from her hand once she’s done and replaces it with a full mug. “We were going to ring him before we got here, but you all might have information we need, so…”
“We’ll be on our best behaviour,” Jamie says, and Dante snorts.
“It’s not you all we’re worried about,” he says.
He and Ophelia exchange a glance before Dante crosses the room to sit on the floor next to her chair. She pulls her phone out of her back pocket and messes with it for a moment, then holds it out so the front camera will capture both of them.
The voice that comes over the speaker is accented just like mine, which is to say, kind of posh, but sounds rough from sleep. “Fee? Darling, what’s going on? Gods know you don’t like to be up and about so early.”
“You’re telling me,” Ophelia says. “We’ve run into a situation.”
“Hi, by the way,” Dante says. His eyes are amused.
The man on the other end of the call snorts. “Better be a fucking catastrophe, waking me up at this hour. I was helping Dor with a séance half the night. The spiritualists were onto something, you know, with the cheesecloth.”
“Felix. Seriously. You didn’t check any social media before you went to bed?”
“I crashed.” Felix’s voice has a sharper edge now, a little more alert. “What the—Oh, fuck. Somebody did something naughty, didn’t they?”
Dante throws me a helpless look. I just shrug in response. That’s a mild response compared to most tonight.
“Oh, are they there? Wait, who is there? Show me!”
Ophelia sighs but obediently turns the camera. On screen is a desperately pretty man, even having just woken up the way he said. He blinks long, dark lashes as he takes us all in.
He looks strangely familiar. Very, very familiar, only I’m sure I’ve never met him before.
“Well, you really did get yourself a fine new pack. Which one’s the alpha?”
“Felix,” Ophelia says. It sounds like a warning this time.
“Fee,” Felix returns. “You know, I have always meant to ask you if you chose that name just because you wanted us to be closer. Awfully dramatic of you, really, but—”
“Kieran’s our alpha,” Ophelia says. Dante looks as though he’s hiding a smile, and she looks put upon, but not angry about it.
Kieran gives them both a quizzical look but seems to accept Felix’s scrutiny all the same. “Can you help us?” he eventually asks.
“Depends what’s in it for me. Seems as though my coven has been helping all of you city folk out a lot of late.”
“You literally live in another city,” Dante says. “And I know you weren’t raised in a barn.”
“Regardless. What have you got?”
Kieran looks at Sam, who shrugs. He sighs. “I’ll owe you a favour. One. You and your coven.”
Felix is silent, and I can’t see his face, but I kind of wish I could. I suspect that what Kieran has offered him is incredibly valuable.
“Well. That certainly is something. What a win for first thing in the morning. Ophelia, love, turn me back around.”
“To who?”
“To the sad Victorian waif sitting on your sofa.”
“Not my sofa,” she says but turns the camera so Felix is looking at me.
I don’t ask how he knows. I don’t ask about the coven or the séance or any of that. I just look back at him. I need him to fix this. Not for me—there’s no helping me now. But at least, if we can mitigate some of the damage, Patch might not have to leave his home. Right?
“So you found yourself a werewolf. Was it everything you hoped for?”
He’s not mocking. He sounds genuinely curious. And I don’t trust that for a second. I’ve known boys like him; men like him.
“You know it wasn’t worth it.”
“Do I?”
“How can you help?”
Felix purses his lips, then sits up. A lamp is on next to his bed, and he’s wearing some kind of silky dressing gown that gapes open at the front, revealing pale skin and flashes of dark ink.
“Well, luckily for all of us—and unsurprisingly, I suppose—my social media following far outstrips yours. And since I’m known for all things magical and mystical, if I come out and point out everything about the video that marks it as an obvious, amateurish hoax, then this whole thing should die down within the week. ”
Each word is designed to cut, but those cuts don’t really hurt at all. Doesn’t matter that this will destroy my reputation. I’ll just have to get my act together. Grow up and understand that magic is real, only it was never really meant for me at all, was it?
“Okay,” I say because I recognise him now, and he’s right—his following and support far outweigh mine, even before all this. “Will you do that?”
“You want me to do it?”
“I made the mistake,” I say. “I didn’t mean to, but I did. I’ve made things unsafe for everyone here. I need to do what I can to fix it.”
“And the money?” Kieran asks. “The person who contacted you.”
Felix makes a puzzled sound.
“Someone contacted me with a video of another werewolf,” I say. “It wasn’t… It wasn’t the same person I livestreamed. But I don’t know who that is.”
“Can you forward me the email? I’ve got a friend who can look into that.”
“You’re not getting another favour,” Kieran says, and Felix scoffs.
“Consider it a freebie,” he replies. He eyes me again, and I don’t for a second believe he likes what he sees, but when he nods, I think he at least believes me. “Ophelia! Dante!”
Ophelia turns the phone back around. “Yes?”
“Fabulous to see you two, as ever. I’ll get onto everything today. Call me if you need anything else.”
“Wa—” Dante begins, but the phone chirps to say the call has ended and he sighs. “Prick.”
Ophelia huffs a laugh.
Kieran shakes his head. “You two have the strangest friends.”
“We all roomed together at school,” Dante replies, almost absently. “What do we do now, then?”
Sam comes and sits on the arm of Kieran’s chair. “We wait. You”—he looks at me—“stay inside. Got it?”
“Yeah. Yes. I will.”
“What do you think’s going to happen to Patch?” Jamie asks. He and Nick have been silent throughout this whole thing, though Nick looks a little overwhelmed by the call.
Kieran heaves a heavy sigh. “I honestly don’t know,” he says. “Em might have made the video, but the fact is, Patch knew better than to do what he was doing. He shouldn’t have been shifting out in the open, regardless of whether or not he was doing it in front of—”
“Anyone,” Sam interrupts, and Kieran shoots him a baffled look. “He shouldn’t have done it. They might send him out of the city.”
“They can… They can do that?” I say.
“Easier him than you,” Kieran says. He rubs his hand over his face. “They can shuffle Patch to another pack. I don’t think Deacon will let Axel exile him.”
Ophelia flinches, and Dante tips his head, looking up at her. “Exile?” he mouths. She shakes her head.
“It won’t come to that,” Sam agrees. “But if we could all avoid any trouble for the next, say, three to six months…”
“Like any of you fuckers can talk,” Kieran grumbles. “Stay inside, Em. No posting online. Can you do that?”
“I won’t talk to anyone but Cate,” I agree. “And I’ll… I know I need to go. I’ll organise it all. I’ll leave soon.”
Jamie tenses up next to me, but Kieran only nods again. “Fine. I’ll let you know when is good to leave, okay? Deacon and the others might want to talk to you again before you do.”
He gets to his feet, and so does Dante—he turns and holds out his arm. Ophelia grabs him and hauls herself up. “So tired,” she mutters.
“It’s a wonder you and Felix passed any classes at all, really.”
She shakes her head but waves vaguely at us as they make their way out. Nick sees Sam and Kieran to the door, leaving me and Jamie alone in the living room, at least for now.
“Are you really planning to leave?” he asks.