Page 25

25

The Sins of the Father

Victoria’s study looked nothing like what I’d expected from the Hawthorne matriarch. Instead of the antique furniture and oil paintings that characterized the rest of the mansion, the room was decorated in rich vintage tones, with comfortable modern sofas and art. The only traditional touches were the Persian rug and the grandfather clock ticking away in the corner.

Victoria indicated an armchair by the fireplace and went straight to a cabinet.

I sat down, Pearl in my arms.

The cat had unilaterally adopted me after the Council of Elders meeting ended on a chilly note. Bo didn’t seem to mind.

Victoria returned with a crystal decanter and a pair of glasses. “I think we both need this.” She poured two generous measures of amber liquid and passed me a glass.

I sniffed it cautiously. It smelled expensive.

“Twenty-five-year-old Macallan,” Victoria said dismissively. She settled in the armchair opposite me and took a fortifying sip. “A gift from Alexander.”

My ears pricked at the mention of Samuel and Hugh’s father.

“Where is he?” I asked carefully.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Victoria’s mouth curved slightly, her face carrying a wealth of resignation. “I last saw him three months ago. He showed up out of the blue at two a.m., wearing a poncho and carrying a crate of rare tequila. Said he’d won it off a warlock in a poker game in Mexico.”

I was not expecting that.

Victoria’s expression grew wistful. “He stayed for breakfast, told the most outrageous stories about his adventures, then disappeared again.” She swirled the whiskey in her glass. “That’s Alexander for you. Like a summer storm. Here one minute, gone the next.”

“He sounds like an interesting guy,” Bo panted.

Pearl licked a paw. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“How did you meet?” I said curiously.

It was clear Victoria was in the mood to chat. Now was as good a time as any to find answers to all the questions I still had about the Hawthornes.

Victoria’s eyes grew distant. “At a pack gathering. My family was hosting a summer ball.” Her lips curved. “He crashed it.”

I blinked. “Crashed it?”

“Literally. He flew his plane into our topiary garden.” Victoria’s smile widened at my shocked expression. “He claimed he had engine trouble, but I found out later he’d done it on purpose. He said it was the only way to get past my family’s security.”

I could see where Hugh got his dramatic flair from.

“Your family didn’t approve?”

“The Rochesters are old money.” Victoria’s tone turned sardonic. “Very old money. Though the Hawthornes are equally wealthy, they have a reputation for being unconventional.”

“Batshit crazy is more accurate,” Pearl contributed acerbically. “Alexander’s grandfather once tried to start a werewolf circus.”

I choked on my drink.

Bo wagged his tail enthusiastically. “That’s so cool!”

“He said it was for the supernatural appreciation of the arts.” Victoria’s eyes sparkled with humor. “It didn’t end well. Especially after someone let the tigers out.”

“Those tigers had it coming,” Pearl muttered darkly.

I was beginning to suspect there was more to Pearl’s history with the Hawthornes than met the eye.

“So what happened?” I asked. “With you and Alexander?”

Victoria’s face softened. “We fell in love. Much to everyone’s horror.” She took another sip of whiskey. “My father threatened to disown me. Alexander’s family on the other hand was thrilled to have me. They thought I might be able to tame him.” Her smile faded. “They were wrong about that, in the end.”

I decided to shift the conversation slightly. “What’s the beef between you and Helen?”

“She was Victoria’s love rival,” Pearl said with a sneer.

Victoria grimaced. “She tried to seduce Alexander several times before our marriage. He rejected her emphatically.”

“That crazy werewolf turned up in his room one night in a see-through negligee,” Pearl muttered in disgust.

We all shuddered.

The grandfather clock in the corner ticked quietly in the silence that followed.

“The first few years of our marriage were wonderful,” Victoria finally said. “Alexander was charming, brilliant, full of wild ideas. But he was also kind. He doted on the boys and treated his role as the pack alpha seriously.” Her voice caught. “Then the attempts on his life started.”

My scalp prickled. I suddenly recalled how Aunt Lucille had lost her teeth. “There was more than one attempt?”

“Yes. Someone wanted the Hawthornes gone. We never found out who it was.” Victoria’s knuckles whitened on her glass. “The attacks grew worse. More frequent. Alexander…” She paused and swallowed. “He changed. Started disappearing for longer and longer periods. He said he was trying to protect us by staying away.”

Though I could guess the answer, I still asked the question. “Did it work?”

“No.” Victoria’s voice turned bitter. “The attempts just shifted to the rest of us. Samuel was fifteen when he had to fight off an assassin who’d broken into the mansion. Hugh was twelve at the time.” She closed her eyes. “That’s when Alexander left for good.”

I was still digesting this shocking revelation when the study door opened.

Samuel stood in the doorway, his expression dark behind his glasses. “I see you’re telling Abby about Father.” His hair was all messed up, like he’d been running his hands through it all afternoon.

I resisted the urge to go over and smooth his wild locks down.

Boy did I have it bad.

Victoria’s face tightened. “She deserves to know.”

Samuel avoided my gaze and crossed the floor to grab a glass from the drinks cabinet. He poured himself a generous measure of whiskey from the decanter and headed over to a window overlooking the gardens.

“Did you tell her how he sends postcards? From Tibet, Hawaii, wherever the hell he is?” His voice grew hard. “How he thinks gifts and stories make up for not being here when we needed him?”

“Samuel—” Victoria started.

“Or how about how his absence affected Hugh?” Samuel knocked back his drink. “After all, watching our father run away from his responsibilities taught him it was okay to do the same.”

His bitter words rang in the silence. Bo whimpered.

My chest tightened. Even though I’d known Samuel and Victoria for less than a week, I found myself wanting to erase the pain in their eyes. I guessed that made me a member of the Hawthorne pack in every sense of the word now.

Victoria sighed and set her glass down with a quiet clink. “I should have known the Council would try something like this.”

Samuel’s head snapped around. “Why?” His expression turned dangerous. “What did they do?”

Victoria hesitated. “They want to monitor Abby.”

The mate bond hummed with a sudden burst of rage that made me draw a sharp breath.

Samuel noticed and inhaled raggedly, his knuckles white on his glass.

The fury I felt from him abated to a dull, red thrum.

“Because she’s a white wolf?” he said between gritted teeth.

“Yes. Or at least, that’s the excuse some are using to try and put a leash on her.”

“They have no right—” Samuel growled.

“They’re scared, Samuel.” Victoria’s voice turned weary. “They’re terrified of the power that a white wolf, especially a white luna, can wield. There hasn’t been one in generations. Not since Elizabeth.”

My pulse quickened at the name. “Was Elizabeth your great-great-grandmother? The one who united the New England packs during the Shadow War?”

“Yes,” Victoria replied.

Samuel placed his glass on Victoria’s desk with more force than necessary. “The Council is overstepping. They have no authority over pack matters.”

“We do when it comes to white wolves,” Victoria said quietly. “The power to influence other packs is not one to be taken lightly. It’s an unwritten rule we have to abide by, whether we like it or not. After all, it’s what Elizabeth herself wanted.”

A chill ran down my spine. “What?”

Victoria pinched the bridge of her nose. “Elizabeth didn’t just unite the New England packs during the Shadow War. She worked with other supernatural species to establish towns like Amberford, where we could live in open secrecy among humans.”

“She also helped create many of our modern supernatural political structures and the organizations that maintain law and order among our kind,” Samuel added grudgingly. He hesitated. “Making sure a white wolf didn’t abuse their power is something she would have worried about.” He prowled over and poured himself another drink.

I was tempted to ask him for a second one myself after everything I’d just learned.

Samuel sensed my stare and met my gaze. The amber fire that sparked in the depths of his eyes made me shiver.

“The Council can go to Hell,” he growled. “Abby is under our protection.”

I heard the hidden mine in his sentence and flushed.

“I agree,” Victoria said, surprising me all over again.

I stared at her. “You do? But you just said we had to?—”

“It doesn’t mean we have to dance to their tune. There are ways to interpret what they say and want.” Victoria exchanged a meaningful look with Pearl.

The cat smirked.

I could see why those two got on so well.

“There is something that worries me.” Victoria wrinkled her brow. “Priscilla seemed particularly interested in Abby’s abilities.”

Samuel’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Priscilla Holt has always been ambitious.”

“She gives me the creeps,” Bo contributed. “And not in a good way.”

Samuel gave my dog a dubious look. “There’s a good way to get the creeps?”

“Yeah,” Bo huffed. “Like when you watch true crime shows.”

We all rolled our eyes, Pearl included.

“Priscilla’s son Marcus is about to come of age,” Victoria said thoughtfully. “He’ll need to prove himself as an alpha soon.”

Samuel’s expression hardened. “If she thinks she can use this situation to gain more influence?—”

“She wouldn’t dare.” Victoria stared into her drink with a frown. “Not after what happened with her husband.”

Bo’s ears pricked. So did mine.

“Why, what happened to him?”

Victoria and Samuel exchanged a loaded look.

“Arthur Holt disappeared under mysterious circumstances ten years ago,” Victoria finally said.

I decided I really didn’t want to know what that meant. Learning about the dark side of the supernatural community and werewolf assassinations was bad enough.

“Marcus is weak.” Samuel lowered his brows. “It’s not the kid’s fault, but I doubt he’ll ever make a proper alpha. He needs somebody strong at his side.”

The grandfather clock chimed the hour.

“I should go,” I said reluctantly. “Ellie will be wondering where I am.”

“I’ll drive you,” Samuel said.

Victoria watched us head for the door. “Abby?”

I stopped and turned.

“Thank you.” A tired smile curved Victoria’s lips. “For standing up for me at the Council meeting.”

I shrugged. “That’s what family does, right?”

Victoria’s expression softened.

Samuel squeezed my hand as we left his mother’s study.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. It sounds like you had a rough time.”

I grimaced. “Not really. I flipped and told those stuffy werewolves where to stick it. You should have seen their faces.”

“They looked like Ellie when she has marmite,” Bo added helpfully.

Samuel chuckled. His gaze dropped to my mouth. His eyes grew heated.

“Wanna go check out my room before I drop you off?” he drawled seductively.

My mouth went dry. Darn, this man could really flip my wolf’s switch with his voice and his come-hither eyes. I swallowed convulsively.

“How about we save that for another day?”

He laughed at my strangled voice.