Written In Red Part 34

Shock. Fear. Fury. How dare any human try to restrain a Wolf?

"You let her do this?"

"First I knew of it, they were walking around the complex, and I wasn't going to take on Henry and Vlad in order to discipline her. And after seeing how the pup was playing, I thought it best not to interfere." Blair paused. "He's playing again, Simon. He's eating meat again. He's acting like a young Wolf again. For the most part. He still hasn't talked to any of us, but I think that will come if he's not scared back into that cage."

"Why would he be?" The pup was playing again? He wouldn't allow anything to interfere with that.

Blair went back to staring out the window. "Like I said, I'm not easy with how Meg got Sam out of the cage, but Henry and Vlad have been keeping an eye on them and have voiced no objections. Elliot, however, is a problem."

"Did he hurt Meg?" Simon asked, his voice stripped of emotion. Elliot didn't know about Meg. If he bit her, cut her . . .

"She's puking scared. I had the feeling there was something else, but Vlad wasn't interested in telling me. He did want me to remind you that while the Sanguinati don't usually hunt other terra indigene, we are not exempt from being prey."

Simon couldn't believe what he was hearing. "The Sanguinati are going after Elliot?"

A long pause. Then Blair said quietly, "I guess that depends on whether you can talk Meg into staying."

"Well, she's not going anywhere tonight." Of course, someone who was puking scared might not consider the danger of trying to run when the roads were bad and the air too cold. Especially when that person had already run away once in exactly that kind of weather.

He unbuckled the seat belt. "Anything else that can't wait until morning?"

Another pause. "Nothing that can't wait. But if any monkeys dressed all in black try to enter the complex tonight, just kill them." A longer pause. "It's something Meg saw. Henry can tell you about it."

Simon s.h.i.+vered, and it wasn't because of the cold. Meg had cut herself while he was gone? How many times? What other sc.r.a.ps of information were going to be tossed at him?

"We're all going to meet tomorrow morning," he growled. "You, me, Tess, Henry, Vlad, Jester, and anyone else you think needs to be there."

"I'll call you in the morning to find out if we're meeting at the Business a.s.sociation or the social room here at the complex," Blair said.

He nodded. Except for Blair, the rest of them lived in the Green Complex. They could meet early and then see about getting the stores and roads open.

Grabbing his carryall, Simon got out of the van and broke a trail to his apartment's front door. He reached for the door, then stepped back and looked around. Lights s.h.i.+ning from the windows of every apartment except Meg's.

It wasn't that late, so it shouldn't have been strange to see all the residences lit up. But it seemed like there were too many lights, too much brightness, making that dark s.p.a.ce too noticeable, almost ominous.

Why was Meg sitting in the dark?

His uneasiness became an itch under his human skin, making him anxious to s.h.i.+ft to a more natural shape. As Wolf, he had the fangs and strength to deal with itchy problems.

He heard Sam howl-and Elliot's growl of reply. Opening his front door, he stepped into a tension that had him fighting not to s.h.i.+ft and force both Wolves into submission.

Tossing the carryall toward the stairs, he stepped into the living room's archway, treading snow on the wood floor. Elliot whipped around to face him, teeth bared, the canines too long to pa.s.s as human. Sam gave Simon one accusing look, then sat in a corner of his cage, his back to both adults.

Simon said.

No answer. Not even a grumble.

Looking oddly uneasy, Elliot turned his head and snapped at the pup, "Stop this foolishness, and come out of that d.a.m.n cage! You don't need to be in there!"

Simon growled. Blood and anger. He could smell both.

"At least take off those snowy boots," Elliot said snippily. "You're tracking the wet all over the-"

Simon grabbed Elliot and pushed him against the hallway wall. "I'm not some human you can intimidate. And I'm not a pup anymore. You don't tell me what to do. No one tells me what to do."

He lengthened his fangs and waited.

Elliot stared at him for a moment. Then he closed his eyes and raised his head, exposing his throat to his leader.

Simon stepped back, not feeling sufficiently human or Wolf to decide how he should respond. Releasing Elliot, he walked into the kitchen, unlaced his boots, and put them on the mat by the back door.

Elliot fetched a couple of old towels and wiped up the floors. When he returned to the kitchen, Simon studied his sire.

"You stirred things up here," he finally said. "Why?"

"I'm not the one who-"

"You've angered the Sanguinati, and that's not going to help any of us right now."

"You don't know what's been going on here," Elliot snapped. "What that monkey-f.u.c.k female has done."

"She's not a monkey f.u.c.k, and she is not prey," Simon said, his voice a low, threatening rumble. "She is Meg."

"You don't know what she's done!"

"She gets mail and deliveries to the complexes on a regular basis. She has a routine with the deliverymen, so we get the merchandise we bought. And she got Sam out of that d.a.m.n cage!"

"She put him on a leash, Simon. On a leas.h.!.+"

"It's not a leash," a young, scratchy voice shouted. Or tried to shout. "It's a safety line. Adventure buddies use a safety line so they can help each other."

Elliot stared, frozen. Simon turned, barely breathing.

Small naked boy, wobbling on stick-thin legs. His hair was a gold mixed with Wolf gray that was rarer than a pure black or white Wolf. Gray eyes full of angry tears, and yet there was a dominance in that weak body that didn't match Simon's but was higher than Elliot's standing within the Lakeside pack. Or would be when Sam was an adult.

"Sam," Simon whispered.

Sam ignored him and glared at Elliot. "You made Meg cry, so I'm not sorry I bit you!"

Now Simon closed the distance between them and went down on one knee in front of the boy. "Sam." Fingers hesitantly touched those skinny, weak-muscled arms. A nose twitched at the odor of an unwashed body. "Hey. Sam."

Big eyes fixed on him now. He was the leader. He was supposed to make things better, make things right.

Just bite me, he thought. He understood pup. He wasn't sure what to do with boy.

Simon glanced over his shoulder at his sire, who looked pale and shaken.

Elliot said.

"This safety line for adventure buddies is a new thing you learned from Meg?" Simon asked.

Sam nodded.

"It's not something other Wolves have heard of. So Elliot thought the safety line was something else, something that might hurt you."

"Meg wouldn't hurt me," Sam protested. "She's my friend."

"I know that, Sam. I know." Another hesitant touch of fingers on the boy's shoulders. Compared to the human form of the other Wolf pups his age, Sam was small and too thin. But that would change if the boy didn't disappear again inside the Wolf.

"Is Meg going away?" Sam asked.

Simon shook his head. "No. She's not going away."

Elliot cleared his throat. "I will offer an apology tomorrow."

Sam swayed. His leg muscles trembled with the effort of keeping him upright. But the look he gave Simon, while shy, clearly had a focus.

"Simon?"

"Sam?"

"Can I have a cookie?"

He wasn't sure there was anything to eat besides Sam's kibble. He was sure of what he wouldn't find. "I'm sorry, Sam. We don't have any cookies."

"Meg does." Sam licked his lips. "They smelled really good, but she didn't know if Wolves could have chocolate, so we didn't eat any. But I could have one now."

Oh, chew a tail and spit out the fur. Sure, the boy could have one if the man was willing to knock on Meg's door and beg for it.

Right now, he would do a lot more than beg in order to get the cookie Sam wanted.

"I'll go ask her." He wrinkled his nose and smiled. "Maybe you should take a bath before you have a treat."

"I can help Sam," Elliot said quietly.

Simon rose and stepped back. "Then I'll get the cookie." And while he was there, he'd find out if Meg was planning to run away.

Thinking about her dark apartment and wondering whether any of the terra indigene would be welcome tonight, he took the spare set of keys for her apartment before going upstairs to the back hall door.

A quick knock. "Meg?" Another knock, louder. "Meg? It's Simon. Open the door." When he didn't get a response, he used the key, breathing a sigh of relief that she hadn't used the slide lock as well.

She was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, her arms wrapped around herself.

"I don't want company," she said, not looking at him.

"Too bad." He reached for the ceiling light's pull string, then considered the brightness and flipped on the light over the sink. Going back to the table, he looked at her face and couldn't stop the snarl when he saw the bruise. That explained why Vlad was threatening to go after Elliot.

He leaned down, capturing her chin between thumb and forefinger in order to turn her head and get a better look. He leaned closer, breathing in the scent of her. The smell of sickness lingered on her clothes. Not sure what to do, he gave her cheek a gentle lick.

"Snow," he said, easing back. "Snow will help."

"What?"

Her eyes looked bruised. Not physically, which somehow made it worse. "Stay there." He found a kitchen towel, then went down the back stairs to the outside door. Leaning out enough to reach the snow, he packed a ball of it in the towel and brought it to her. "Put this on your face."

When she obeyed, he picked up the other kitchen chair and set it down so he could face her.

"I didn't mean to cause trouble," she whispered. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her face. "I wasn't trying to hurt Sam."

"I know." Taking her free hand, he petted the soft skin, that delicate, strange skin that was the gateway to prophecy. "Elliot didn't understand, and he's sorry he hurt you. I'm sorry he hurt you."

"He said . . ." She shuddered.

Simon shook his head. "It doesn't matter what he said. You're safe here, Meg. You're safe with us. I'll make sure of that."

She lifted the towel away from her face. "The snow is melting."

He took the towel and dumped it in the sink. Then he turned to look at her. What was he supposed to do with her? What was proper to do with her? He knew how to deal with human females when they were customers in the store. He knew what to do when they wanted the heat of s.e.x and he was in the mood to provide it. And he knew what to do with prey. But he didn't know what to do with Meg.

"Do you want food?" he asked, studying her back.

She shook her head.

"Tea?"

Another head shake.

He'd come here to get something for Sam, but that didn't feel right anymore. And yet how could he disappoint the boy?

Returning to the table, he sat in the chair. The bakery tin was right there in front of him, taunting him. Until she had shown up half frozen and changed some of the rules, it had been so much easier dealing with humans.

"Meg?" he asked softly. "Could I take a cookie for Sam?"

She blinked. Brushed away tears. Then she looked at the bakery tin and frowned. "Those are chocolate chip cookies. Can Wolves eat chocolate?"

It hadn't occurred to him to wonder. "He s.h.i.+fted, Meg. He's a boy." He couldn't meet her eyes, and he heard his own whine of confusion. "He hasn't s.h.i.+fted to human since his mother was killed. He hasn't talked to us in any way since the night Daphne died. He's been afraid to be outside, and he hurt himself a couple of times. That's why I had to get the cage. But you changed that. He couldn't have a cookie as a Wolf, so he s.h.i.+fted to a boy. I couldn't reach him, but you did-with a leash that isn't a leash and a cookie."

"You took care of him and you loved him and you kept him safe," she said. "Even if it didn't show, he was learning from you." She sniffed, then got up and rummaged in the cupboard until she found a small container. After placing a few cookies in the container, she gave him the bakery tin. "Do you have any milk to go with the cookies?"

"I don't know."

She opened her fridge and gave him an unopened quart.

The quick glance in her fridge didn't rea.s.sure him that she had enough to eat-especially if they were snowed in tomorrow.

Awkward, this sniffing around a female's personal life. Awkward, this no longer being sure how far he could push her when he hadn't hesitated to push before he'd left on that trip. Awkward, because somehow she was starting to matter to him the way his own people mattered.

He backed away. "Thank you."