Jacques growled a warning and Donil did the same. Irritated that the younger male was not backing down, Jacques decided to be blunt. “Listen up, Boy. You stay away from Laylah. Her father has other plans for her and they definitely do not include you!”
“You can yell all you want, Jacques, but I will keep her safe which is more than I can say for Henry’s little outfit.”
“Why you little punk!” Jacques was on his feet and moving toward Donil when Stefan interrupted by stepping between them.
“If the two of you can stop snarling at each other, we have a job to do. It’s kicking Zina’s scrawny behind back to the hole she crawled out of. Now, I can sense the General and the Captains approaching, so please play nice,” Stefan admonished before walking over to a giant table with a 3-d display.
Grumbling, Donil and Jacques put space between themselves. Next time, Donil mouthed, his eyes promising Jacques a good fight.
Jacques gave Donil a bored look and sat with arms crossed to watch the door for the General's arrival.
A few minutes later, ten men entered and Jacques hid his unease. He knew each and every one of them. They all came from the major tribes and were known for their skills in fields such as assassination and clan takeovers. They were the Council’s strong arm and the tactics they employed were anything but clean.
Stefan waved the arrivals over to the table. A quick round of introductions ensued and the men stared at Stefan.
“Gentlemen, sit. Here’s what I propose. You need to infiltrate Zina’s group, but it has to be someone, a civilian, that she would never suspect. Use him to get us in. Heck, you can even feed Zina tiny bits of information that push her closer to our trap. Remember, whoever you pick has to be able to act the part of religious zealot with ease and sound like the most bigoted person on the planet. If you can satisfy all those requirements, we might have a chance of taking Zina down with minimum amount of bloodshed.”
“And what if we can’t find a civilian? What then?” demanded the youngest looking male in the group.
“Ah, Captain? I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“Asegrad, and you didn’t answer my question.”
“If infiltration fails, then we go to Plan B, which is a frontal assault.”
“And where do you propose we find this civilian? Zina knows practically everybody.”
“Captain Asegrad, it will have to be a youngster, preferably one under 20 that she would not have met and who comes from a non-New Florida clan. That would be our best bet.” Stefan stared at the men. “Are there any other questions?”
“I think this little meeting is a joke, but then again, so are you,” sneered the bald General with tattoos down the side of his neck.
“Ah, I do remember you, General Nancer. You always take such negative views of situations. Normally, that wouldn’t bother me, but today, I think I’ll take exception to that.” Stefan lunged at Nancer and chaos erupted.
Donil and Jacques stood at the bar watching the fight.
“Should we help Stefan?” Donil glanced at the Jacques.
Jacques winced when Stefan got punched in the face. “Nope.”
“Yeah, I was thinking that too,” Donil agreed as the combatants continued to brawl.
“Another drink, please!” Jacques turned his back on the fight and waved at the bartender.
“You know what? I think I’ll join you.” Donil sat down. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
The bartender grunted and returned with two drinks. Both men waited until the furor died down behind them before checking on the fighters’ conditions.
Stefan had pinned General Nancer firmly to a table, keeping the General's arms in a pretzel twist. Nancer bucked, but the movement was stopped by Stefan’s hard jerk on the General’s arms, eliciting an enraged hiss from the pinned man.
“I may be only an Omega, General, but I am leader of this plan. You will yield or go back to the Council with your tail between your legs!”
“I yield,” Nancer ground out.
Stefan held him down a few more seconds before releasing him. “Now, Captains, are there any other questions?” He regarded each one.
Most met his gaze with looks of boredom. A few were filled with animosity and one held only polite interest. “All right, I’ll submit our plans to the Council and they can act on it or not. Makes no difference to me. Good day, Gentlemen.”
Stefan turned off the 3-D display, walked past the muttering group and stopped at the bar. “Come, you two. We need to talk.” Stefan didn’t wait for Donil or Jacques to object as he went outside. He took a deep cleansing breath and was glad to get the cigarette stench from his sensitive nose.
It was one of the downsides of being a werewolf. Smells were always magnified. Eyes closed, he listened for the telltale crunch of gravel that signaled Donil's and Jacques' arrival. “Glad you could join me today. I appreciate your help.”
“Quit playing games, Stefan. I have other things to do besides speak with you,” Jacques snapped.
“I forgot how stuffy you can be, Jacques. Relax, breathe, and remember that having your head stuck so far up Henry’s butt is an unhealthy place to be.”
Jacques tensed and Donil chuckled. Stefan fought the urge to sigh. He opened his eyes, turned around and studied the two before him: one guarded, world-weary and conflicted, the other wary, inexperienced and passionate.
“You gonna stare all day or you gonna tell us why you really brought us here?” Donil demanded.
“So impatient, Donil. Good things come to those who wait.”
“Waiting can get a person killed in our world,” Donil pointed out.
“True. Listen, I want you both to keep watching over Laylah. Henry may think he’s safe from Zina and that’s probably true. Laylah, however, is not. Jacques, you have to get Henry to increase her guards, maybe even consider varying her daily routine. You know Zina’s methods. Patterns of any kind are her specialty. That’s why Gerard almost succeeded in his first attempt at nabbing Laylah.”
Jacques bristled. “Just because the Council gave you an assignment doesn’t mean things have changed. You are still outcast from the Le Croix family. Heck, I shouldn’t even be here. Henry’s on edge and snapping at everyone. He keeps trying to pick fights, but I’m not in the mood for that crap.”
Stefan snorted. “I didn’t think Big Bad Jacques was afraid of anything. Has my brother truly turned you into a lap dog?”
Jacques snarled, took a step, and stopped. “Not afraid, Stefan. Being prudent. Big difference.”
“So you want increased protection, but what does that have to do with me?” Donil interrupted and locked gazes with Stefan.
“You’re handsome, smart and have charisma, Donil. Use those traits to help my niece become more confident and capable of defending herself. She’s going to need it if we fail.”
Donil shook his head. “I’d already planned on helping her in those areas. I can’t stand the fear of rejection in her beautiful eyes. I want her happy, not miserable.”
“Good! That’s all I ask. I want her safe, even if my own brother doesn’t care,” Stefan agreed.
“Anything else, Stefan? You know, maybe we could even gift wrap Zina, put a bow on her for you, while we’re at it,” Jacques sneered.
Stefan sighed. “Look, Jacques, I’m not criticizing you! You did save Laylah’s life. And I know how serious you are about any work you do. Zina will be counting on your habits and routines to take another crack at grabbing Laylah. I don’t want that to happen so I’m telling you how best to minimize Zina’s chance of success.”
“Fine! I’ll check to see what things can be altered. I have to get going.” Jacques ran his hand over his bald head before turning to look at Donil. “I don’t care what Stefan told you. Stay away from Laylah. Henry’s already pissed at her for taking help from your family. Don’t fan those flames, Donil. You hear me, Boy?”
“Yeah, I hear you. I’ll do what is best for her. Have a good da
y, Gentlemen.” Donil whistled all the way to his truck and drove off.
Jacques and Stefan stood and sized each other up. Stefan’s low chuckle made Jacques frown. “Don’t worry, old friend, Laylah’s not leaving yet, at least not for a while.”
“You talk too much, Stefan.” Jacques stomped off, got in his car and peeled out of the parking lot, spraying gravel in his wake.
Stefan stood there, a huge grin on his face.
~***~
Laylah woke slowly and noticed the afternoon sunlight filling her bedroom. Surprised that she’d been allowed to sleep in and not roused from bed, she took a moment to gather her thoughts. She had to admit that the excitement of the last few days had finally caught up with her and she lay there, content to not move. Even Naiya’s knock didn’t move Laylah to action.
Naiya entered and Laylah frowned. Her caretaker seemed tired and sad. She wondered why. Laylah was sure Naiya hadn't looked like that two days ago. She sat up and studied Naiya once more to be sure she wasn’t seeing things. The red eyes, pinched look and absence of Naiya's customary smile alarmed Laylah. What had happened while she was gone?
“Naiya, you’ve been crying! What’s going on? Is Jacques hurt?”
Naiya stared at her and began laughing. Laylah felt the hairs stand up on her neck and she flinched, pressing against her pillows, her gaze focused on Naiya’s crazed expression.
“Oh yes, I’ve been crying. You want to know what happened? Do you?”
Laylah shook her head, too frightened by this side of Naiya to speak.
Ignoring her, Naiya continued ranting. “Your precious Jacques is fine. In fact, he’s just peachy! My poor Thaniel. He’s the one who needs your sympathy. He helped set you up to be kidnapped. Imagine that! We were together for two years, yet I never knew he was a traitor.”
The word traitor confused Laylah. She fidgeted and tried to figure out a way to calm the woman before her. “Naiya.”
“They watched him die and did nothing. He could’ve been saved!” Tears pooled in Naiya's eyes and she stopped talking.
Now completely baffled, Laylah tugged on her braid and pondered her next action. The decision was taken from her when Jacques hurried into the room.
“Naiya! There you are! Did you know the food you’re cooking was burning?”
“Ha! Have you come to shut me up, Jacques? Afraid the girl will learn the truth?”
Jacques gave Naiya a hard look. “You’re drunk!” he accused and glared.
“Yeah, whoopee do. Why do you care anyway? You didn’t help him. You’re useless, like the rest! Always kissing Henry’s butt. Backing his every wrong decision. You’re not a real man. You’re a pansy!” Naiya jabbed her finger in his chest.
Laylah winced at the venom in Naiya’s tone. Such hateful words. She felt sorry for Jacques, but the things Naiya was rambling about made Laylah curious.
Jacques grabbed Naiya’s arm and jerked her toward the door. “You’re setting a bad example for Laylah. Come on, I’ll take you to your room to sleep it off.”
Naiya resisted and Laylah inched toward the bed’s edge.
“Laylah, stay! I will help Naiya. You rest like Kattcha ordered.”
“But, Jacques!”
“No buts. Just obey. I’ll bring lunch after Naiya is settled.”
“Yeah, eat the food, Laylah. It goes good when served with a pack of lies,” Naiya sneered.
“That’s enough, Naiya!” Roughly, Jacques dragged her from the room, leaving Laylah stunned and wondering what had happened.
Chapter 34
Donil had wasted little time after leaving behind Stefan and Jacques at the bar. Too much had happened and he needed to think, so he’d driven an hour and half to Brockshill. He loved this city, mostly populated by various clans of werecats. Predominant were the lions and leopards followed by the panthers, wildcats and wolves. There were some other tribes that rounded out the Were population. Of course, one could not forget the human populace. Not that they mattered. Their numbers roughly equaled the Weres so neither group completely controlled the city.
A rare peace existed in this area. It was also one of the twenty sanctioned sanctuaries for outcast Weres. In order to stay, they had to swear a blood oath and sign an agreement to abide by the very strict rules governing the city. Anyone caught breaking the laws were executed on the spot.
The real reason he loved this place was Grandpa Hans and Grandma Ruby. Both in their late sixties, they still remained active members of the Were community. Grandpa Hans had served on the city council as mayor for three terms before retiring.
Donil chuckled as he parked his truck outside the light blue house with green trim. In the yard stood a wooden sign with a bright pink background, entwined hearts and the words “Soul Mates, Inc.” written on it.
Still grinning he went to the front door and raised his fist to knock. The door was flung open and Donil found himself enveloped in his grandma’s arms.
“Donil, my dear boy! You should have called! I would have cooked you something delicious.”
“I know, Grandma Ruby, and I’m sorry for not giving you a heads up. Things have been hectic lately.”
“It's all right. I was teasing you. Come in. Come in. Your grandpa is in his study.”
Donil stepped inside and breathed deeply of the aromatic scents. “I smell cinnamon apple and...sage?”
She laughed and poked him in his side. “You’re getting better. It’s not sage. It's thyme. I have some herbal candles for your mother, so don’t forget them.”
“I won’t. I do need to speak with you and Grandpa though.”
His grandma cupped his face in her hands and peered into his eyes. “So serious. But then again, matters of the heart always are. It’s break time for Hans, anyway.”
Donil followed his grandma through the living room, past the dining room and to his grandfather’s study. The door was ajar and he could hear Grandpa Hans muttering. He smothered a laugh before knocking.
“Come in, Donil. Ruby, did Isabella call back yet?”
“No, dear. I’ll let you know as soon as she does.” Ruby pushed the door open and walked by Donil.
Donil laughed and sat down near the coffee table. He chuckled when she tsked him for kicking off his boots and propping his feet up.
“Honestly Donil! You were not raised in a barn,” his Grandma scolded.
“Are you sure about that?” He held up a hand to forestall her retort. “No, don’t answer that Grandma. Seriously, I did come for a reason.”
“I’m all ears, especially for my grandson.” Hans turned off his s-comp, his dark brown eyes focusing on Donil.
“Zina is back and causing trouble.”
“What?” Ruby surged to her feet. “I thought she was outcast by the Council!”
“She was, but didn’t get the message about dying once you’ve been outcast. She’s in town, chasing after Henry Le Croix’s daughter.”
“That woman never did know when to quit,” Grandpa grumbled.
“Why not Henry instead?” His grandma went to stand by Grandpa, her light brown eyes studying Donil.
“I’m not sure, but I have a vested interest in finding out.” Donil dropped his feet to the floor and straightened. “I can’t let Zina hurt Laylah.”
“Laylah? You’ve met the girl then?”
Donil contemplated how much to tell his grandparents. If he voiced his theory, his grandma would nag him to death. If he said nothing, and later she found out, he’d never hear the end of it. “Grandma, I had to save her from Zina’s thugs.”
“Oh my! Where were you when that happened?”
Donil fidgeted and braced himself for the outburst he knew would happen at his next words. “I was at the boundary between Le Croix and Silentshadow lands.”
“Donil Vince Silentshadow, have you lost your senses?” Grandpa Hans roared. Grandma Ruby looked horrified.
Donil sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I know I’m not supposed to be near Henry?
??s holdings. I stayed on our side of the line. If I hadn’t been there, Gerard would have kidnapped her!”
His grandpa was not mollified and opened his mouth to berate Donil some more when Grandma’s hand on his arm gave him pause. Shrugging, he sat down.
“Donil, why were you there in the first place?”
Donil twitched under his grandma’s scrutiny.
“Donil.”
He hated it when she used that tone. “I’ve been…visiting Laylah.”
“There is no way Henry Le Croix would allow you within walking distance, let alone within five feet of his daughter.” Grandpa Hans stared at him. “So explain how you’ve been ‘visiting’ her.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Donil muttered. “I’ve been building a friendship with Laylah. I heard her fear and went to help. End of story.”
“That’s not the end, is it, my grandson?” His grandma came to Donil and shrewdly looked him in the eyes. “You’ve been visiting her in her dreams, haven’t you?” His stubborn silence made her sigh. “Donil, what is so important about this girl that you’d risk being outcast by the Council for violating the Zina-Henry contract we all signed thirteen years ago?”
Donil stood, turning his back to his grandparents. “She’s my future mate.” He winced as the chair screeched from his grandfather’s abrupt rising.
“What? Donil, this is no time for games!”
“Really, Dear, do you think it wise to make such a claim?”
Donil's head began to pound. He'd come to seek guidance, not be lectured. “In my defense, I didn’t know who her father was until I rescued her. Second, in the dream realm, I never showed her my face. She didn’t have a clue who I was.”
“And now?” His grandfather’s growl made his own hackles rise.
“Laylah knows I’m with her when she sleeps and is not fearful. I promise to go slow and tread carefully. I don’t want to lose her. That’s what will happen if Henry learns of our bond. Besides, she doesn’t even know she’s Were.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I wish I was, Grandpa. She has no knowledge about herself, Henry or those living with her.”
“Henry always was, and still is, an idiot. Are you going to tell her, Dear?”
His grandma was such a tender heart and Donil loved that about her. “Not right now. I’ll wait until the time is right.”
“Don’t wait too long. If you don’t tell the girl, someone else will. Does she know you’re a Were?” Grandma Ruby gave him an assessing glance and Donil squirmed.