Chapter Five #3
When he finished the main tale, Adrian held up a hand to signal for silence.
“I know you all have questions, but I assure you, we have no real answers yet. The people appear friendly and as worried as we are about how they got here. The world is a strange place, and often we don’t comprehend what happens within its design.
I’ll be meeting with the people there, alongside the leader of the Brannigan clan, as this affects us all.
Once I have more news, we’ll hold another meeting and I’ll share with you what else we may find out. ”
There was a riot of questions, though not as rabid as before, and Adrian attempted to answer them, even the one about them being aliens visiting the planet. He reflected wryly that the poor ETs were certainly getting the blame for a lot of things right now.
Adrian wasn’t particularly surprised when Garrett Donaldson stood up, a man painted with truculence and aggressiveness.
“Given the new circumstances, I wish to challenge you for the position of King.” Garrett towered over the rest of the people gathered in the sitting room.
He was a big man—six and a half feet tall, built like a lumberjack and, if the snarl on his face and his clenched fists were anything to go by, one aggressive son of a bitch.
Adrian stood his ground as his pack stared aghast at Garrett.
Time to show him who’s in charge here.
Adrian’s wolf rose to the surface, but he willed it to subside. Not yet, he thought. Let’s see what the human in me can resolve first.
“Garrett, you are fully aware—I’m sure you were here when I arrived and explained the situation to everyone because I smelt the sour beer emanating off you the minute you walked into the room—my Uncle Charles had a specific clause in his will that only a Gauthier by blood can be leader of this clan.
Blood lines were very important to him. I can’t truly understand why you feel cheated as I’ve been assured by Piper that my uncle had always made this imminently clear to you.
And everyone here—” he swept his hand around the room— “confirmed this was indeed the case. You need to accept what’s in front of you and retract your challenge. ”
Garrett strode closer as Adrian’s clan mates separated to make way for him. Finally, he was in front of Adrian, personal space forgotten and the light in his eyes dark and vindictive.
“So you said. What you don’t know is that Charles said he’d forgo that sentiment and make me his successor. He fucking promised me. And given the situation we find ourselves in right now with strangers on our turf, I’d be the better man for the job.”
Adrian knew that to be a lie. He’d spoken to his uncle only three days before his death and Charles had laughed in derision when he’d told Adrian the story of Garrett’s fanciful dream to succeed him.
“That lad will never amount to anything,” he’d scoffed. “He’s too bad-tempered and arrogant to ever make a good leader. He believes he deserves it, and I’m of no mind to grant him his wish. Blood follows blood, my boy. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I don’t believe that to be true,” Adrian said evenly.
“I knew my uncle’s wishes well. As did his life partner.
” He glanced over at Piper, who nodded fiercely.
“Either way, I’m King now, and you’d do well to remember that.
Let’s try to work this out. I’m happy to work with everyone for the sake of the clan.
But please don’t test my patience or my good nature, because if you do, I’ll have no qualms about putting you in your place. ”
Garrett took a step back. His pale eyes darted around the room, no doubt looking for support.
He found none. “I’ll no’ retract my challenge, but mark my words, it’ll be kept on ice until the right time.
You’re only a ponce from France, not even a Scotsman, and you have no right coming in here and taking over.
Wait until they see the fucking mess you make, and then maybe these idiots,” he gestured round the room, “will come to their senses and see who their rightful leader is.”
His lip curled up in a snarl. “A true Scot needs to run this clan. You’re worse than a fucking Englishman.”
With that, Garrett strode out of the sitting room and stomped down the hall.
Adrian took a deep breath. “Well, I’d say that went well, insults at the English notwithstanding.
I rather like them myself.” He looked around the room.
“Is there anyone else here who shares Garrett’s sentiments about me?
If so, please speak up now. It’ll makes things much easier knowing who might stick a knife in my back. ”
There was silence, broken only by a deep chuckle from the slim man in his early forties seated on the chaise lounge, Laurence, the clan’s accountant.
“It’s about time someone told that schmuck where he stands. Bravo.” He stood, his oversize hoodie drowning his small frame. Even his jogger trousers seemed to puddle at his feet. “I for one have no objections to you handling all this, First.”
“Adrian,” Adrian corrected absently. “Please all of you, call me by my name. I’m not Charles.” Damn the ancient naming conventions—First, King, Alpha—they were not quite Adrian’s cup of tea as the English would say.
“You’re damn right you’re not,” someone muttered in the background. A woman’s voice. “He’d have taken Garrett outside and given him a good seeing-to.”
Adrian shrugged. “Alas, mademoiselle, I’ve no taste for violence where it is not necessary. Words can sometimes do the trick quite well.”
A woman with flashing blue eyes and a wild mane of chestnut-coloured hair stood up. Adrian searched his memory for her name. Jasmine, that was it.
“Well, seeing as how you’re a head shrink, I guess words are the only weapon you have,” she said scathingly. “Are you one of those people who deplore violence and always try to see the good in people?”
At his side, Adrian heard Max draw a sharp breath at her rudeness.
Adrian pursed his lips.
“I prefer not to use the phrase ‘head shrink’; that’s been passé for several years now,” he chided gently.
“I have a master’s in psychology, yes, and I practised in Paris for some time.
Here, with you all, I’m simply Adrian Gauthier, King of the Gauthier Clan, and my primary responsibility is to look after you, keep you safe, and ensure we can continue to enjoy the style of living we have grown used to.
” He looked around sombrely. “We will all need to pull together with this latest development.”
He inclined his head slightly.
“Et voilà, mon petit incroyant.” So there, my little disbeliever. “Are we now clear?”
He looked around the room at the faces surrounding him. “Does anyone else have any question about my ability to lead this clan?”
***
After the meeting ended, Piper wandered over to him with yet another fresh cup of espresso. It was his favourite blend, Enjoué. He’d brought packets of it with him from his home country, in case it wasn’t available anywhere. He smiled his thanks.
“Merci, madame.” He took a satisfied sip. “So tell me, what do you think about all of this drama?”
Piper shook her head, her grey braids bobbing and her faded blue eyes worried. “Garrett has always been trouble. Even Charles found him hard to handle. As for the rest, well, it’s like something out of an old fairy tale. Certainly, Brigadoon springs to mind.”
Adrian frowned. “What is Brigadoon?”
Piper looked at him in horror. “You don’t know of that classic film?
I can’t believe it. It’s a story about a village that appears every hundred years and stays for one night only.
It’s visible to outsiders. Visitors will find a place filled with love and laughter, but it only lasts for a day.
Should anyone encounter the village and leave before the enchanted day ends, the miracle would be broken, leading to the end of everyone. ”
Adrian frowned. “It’s a legend, n’est-ce pas? Not real.”
Piper shrugged. “Given what’s happening right now, it seems more real than fantasy.” She grinned. “For all we know, the place has disappeared already. That would solve a lot of problems.”
She turned and went to the kitchen. Adrian stood, rubbing his stubbled chin. A fantastical tale turned to truth, non? he thought. Except this one has shadows and does not appear as friendly as the Brigadoon of legend.