Chapter Two

“C an you cover the game for me?” Bertram the Bashful asked on a Friday afternoon a week after the garden party. It was an ironic nickname. There wasn’t anything shy about the sports reporter.

He was leaning on my desk, which was positioned near the water dispenser, the restrooms in the middle of the large office full of busy reporters, and Clara, who was calling up advertisers.

Loren frowned at Bert and shook her head. “Send her downtown and she’s likely to get mugged again.”

I smiled back at the reporter who covered crime and conspiracies. She’d love to get mugged. She’d get a story and throw down the mugger to add to her reputation as serious girl-boss. Woman-boss. There was nothing girly about the human with elf blood who worked out at the gym while Bert played sports.

I said, “I gave Bingo cookies. That wasn’t a mugging. And Bert, we’re talking baseball, yes?”

He nodded and ran a hand through his ashy hair. “Melinda needs me to take the twins to gymnastics because…”

“Tax season,” I answered for him. His wife was an accountant. Every April was the same story, which was unfortunate timing. At least I liked baseball, and most of the team members liked giving interviews to me as much as to Bert. The werewolves were particularly flirty, but none of them had pushed anything, thanks to Max, the alpha of Singsong City, who kept all but the youngest wolves from losing control.

I was technically a werewolf, but it wasn’t common knowledge. Thank heavens that werewolves kept things quiet. I’d lose my job if Nanette, the editor-in-chief, knew that I’d been infected, but that wasn’t what kept me quiet about it. No, it was my parents and what their reaction would be.

Gnomes weren’t supposed to be able to turn. If they got infected, they died. I’d been ‘lucky,’ transitioning after two months of the most miserable anguish imaginable. Not that I bothered to imagine anguish. Most werewolves transitioned in less than two days. I was so special to have survived. For the next two years, I’d stalked a vile wolf that I suspected of turning me. I ripped him and his pack apart, picking them off one by one, then let the police find me with the other girls he’d caged, trying to turn them into werewolves so he could mate them to his pack and raise an army.

In the end, it turned out that he wasn’t the monster who turned me. That was a huge disappointment, working so hard to get my vengeance only to realize in the end that I’d had the wrong target. It hit the point home that I’m not meant for vengeance or killing, so I let go of the idea of finding the monster who ruined my life, and focused on having a life worth living. It was the best decision of my life. At any rate, my parents were informed by Zephin Clay that the werewolves had kidnapped me, so they hate werewolves with more than a passion. My mom still didn’t understand why I’d choose to live in Singsong City when it has one of the largest packs in the world who might infect me to death. It’s the only thing that could have kept her from visiting over the last decade she could have spent nagging me about getting married and having children. So I guess there were some perks.

If I were a hard-nosed reporter determined to uncover the truth, I’d be tracking down every new case of werewolf infection to find the monster who infected me as well as the identity of the psychopath who had kept me alive until I could transition, but I wasn’t, and I didn’t. Two years of my life was enough. I focused on the positive, the fluff as the diabolically handsome senator had said so bluntly, and I had no interest in changing.

Later that afternoon, the baseball game was enjoyable enough. I took my knitting project to the stands to work on. The sweater was for my brother’s fiancé, knitted in a very fine lace pattern and spelled with gnomish coziness and Elven protection runes. I’d promised to go to the wedding, even though I’d managed to avoid most of our family get-togethers for the last thirteen years. I had to bring a present that would show how much I cared. Nothing said care like hand knitting. Hopefully, she agreed. She was a full-blooded gnome and the finest cheese-maker in the world if my brother’s rhapsodic tales of brie could be trusted. She was also a nurse at the local hospital where he worked as a therapist. They sounded perfect for each other, and I was so happy that he’d found a way to his happily ever after. I just hoped that no one smelled the werewolf in me while I was there.

I cheered with the crowd when Piney the werewolf hit the ball over the fence and made his leisurely way around the plates. I jotted down notes about the tension in the air as we watched the opposition close in at the end. It was satisfyingly close, and thanks to the new pitcher striking out the opposition’s batter, we won. The pitcher was good, but he looked like he knew it, and would rub it in. I’d get to find out if my snap judgment was on target. Lucky me.

When the game was over, I put up my knitting and made my way along with the crowd down the steps, then continued down to the basement areas outside the locker rooms where I could interview the players.

“Delphi, what brings you down to our level?” Jake the Rake said with a wiggle of his bushy brows as soon as he came out of the locker room. The werewolf was good-natured about my desire to not be included in the pack, but he’d still tease me about it.

“Tax season. It brings everybody down. Well, Jake, to what do you owe your fine form this evening?”

“Well,” he said, edging closer to me so I could smell the stench of his unwashed, sweaty body. He’d come out for the interview before he showered. “It would have to be you, wouldn’t it?” He grabbed me in a hug, squeezing me tight while I wheezed and tried not to drop my knitting bag.

“Delphi pile-up!” Piney cried and crowded in on the other side. I was half gnome, half elf, so I wasn’t very tall, not unless I shifted, and then I’d be bigger than whatever form they’d come up with. My beast was massive, which didn’t help me when I was completely overwhelmed by the werewolves’ stench, their size, and their eagerness to squeeze the life out of me.

“What’s this game?” another man asked, but his voice was oily slick while these two were just sweaty. They pulled away, both of them draping arms over my shoulders, so I got a double whiff of all they had to offer. I was either going to faint or puke from their overwhelming manliness.

“It’s just Delphi the reporter,” Piney said, a warning in his voice as he faced off with the newcomer.

I smiled at Ridley, the blonde new pitcher who didn’t smell nearly as terrible as the other two. “Welcome to the team. I haven’t seen you play until now, but the hype certainly wasn’t overrated. Your pitching was absolutely stellar. How are you liking Singsong City?”

“You smell very nice.” He flashed his teeth, and I remembered something about why he’d left Angel City on the west coast. Something about a woman he’d dated disappearing? I’d have to look it up.

“Thanks. That’s because I bathe regularly, unlike some filthy beasts I know,” I said, smiling up at Piney and Jake. They were watching the new guy, who by the smell of him was another wolf, but from a very different pack. Was it him, the one who had infected me? I hadn’t noticed being bitten, so it was highly unlikely I’d be able to smell the monster, but I always tried every time I met a new werewolf.

“Do you? Do you like baths or showers? I’m good with either,” the new wolf said with a leer and a wink that might have been attractive if I wasn’t half elf and ergo understood raw sex appeal. My gnome mother would laugh so hard if she heard me say that. Nope, it’s just that my type was more tall, dark, violet-eyed, carnation-smelling, calculating manipulator than this tawny-haired, white-toothed predator whose warm eyes didn’t cover up the hunger in him. He was used to getting his way, and didn’t care very much about consequences. That was a dangerous combination.

“She’s ours,” Piney growled, gripping my shoulder more possessively.

Usually, I’d push him away and remind him that I wasn’t an object to be owned, but this newcomer would probably understand their claim on me better than my claim on myself. Most werewolves were like that. Just another reason to resent the fact that I was one of them.

Ridley smiled easily. “Yeah? Which one of you is mated to her? She smells untouched. I can take care of you, my pretty, soft sweet,” he rumbled, eyes flickering golden.

The other team members weren’t paying much attention, but they were right there where they’d see me if I shifted into my ridiculously overpowered wolf and ate this guy raw and screaming. That meant I’d rely on Piney and Jake to save me. I took a half-step away from him and moved slightly behind Jake with my hand on his muscular arm. That body language screamed, ‘protect the helpless damsel,’ really loudly.

“She doesn’t have to be mated to one of us to be ours,” Jake said, which made no logical sense, but werewolves used instinct in the place of logic.

Golden-eyes smiled. “She’s not a born wolf. That means that she requires more than a protector, a mate. I’ve never seen a female who needs more protecting.” He looked me up and down slowly, ogling me more than was necessary. Apparently, he liked the curves my gnome genetics gave me and didn’t mind the shortness. He was completely wrong about my needing a protector or a mate, but I wasn’t going to contradict him. Somewhere in the back of my head, my wolf whined. She wanted her mate. You know, the monster who had caged me for two months, so I survived being turned. She got no say in my life as long as she wanted something so incredibly bad for all of me.

“I’m under Max’s protection,” I said, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at Ridley’s drama and my wolf’s whining. “If you don’t want to get kicked out of Singsong like you were out of Golden, you’ll respect the alpha and mind your manners.”

He laughed, low and threatening. “Sure. I’ll let you teach me any manners you want, Soft-Sweet.” Lovely. He’d come up with a pet name for me. I should have flirted with him and stroked his ego so he didn’t feel like he had to step up to the challenge. Jake and Piney were feeding into his whole desperate need to be the best and brightest in the pack. I needed to diffuse this situation before things got any worse.

Jake lunged forward and slugged the new guy in the face. Yep. That’s exactly the kind of worse I was worried about. For a second it was quiet, and then they both erupted into wolves who would probably rip the green room apart.

I jumped away from them and then let Piney escort me out, arm still draped over my shoulder all the way outside to the curb where he helped me into a cab. “Sorry about this, Delphi,” he said with a frown. “Jerk’s not wrong, though. You should be mated. We’ve all been bothering Max about it. It’s not right for you to live in Sing away from the safety of the pack. Think about it, okay? We’re not all bad.” He winked at me and then closed the door, nodding at the driver to pull out, which he did. Most people didn’t argue with werewolves for some reason.

Me? Mated to a werewolf? That would go over well with my family and my co-workers. I slumped against the backseat, clutching my knitting bag. The only reason I had my job was because I was my Elven father’s daughter, and he was old friends with Zephin Clay, media mogul. I could embrace the wolf and become the alpha. My beast was ridiculously overpowered, and Max wouldn’t fight very hard. No, he’d be delighted if someone else took the pack off his hands. I shivered at the thought of managing other wolves. Not a chance. That would be a complete nightmare. Also, my family wouldn’t talk to me again. Not that we talked much. Things had been strained for some time now. I didn’t come home enough. I didn’t call enough. I lived in Singsong City, which had all the most dangerous elements imaginable. I wasn’t appreciated at my work. I was too thin. And worst of all, I wasn’t dating, so how could I give my mother grandchildren?

I pulled the sweater out of my bag and sniffed it before I started another row. It didn’t smell too much like werewolves. I hoped. I didn’t need to worry about a too-friendly guy, and I definitely didn’t need to worry about my nonexistent love life. I had a great job and lived in the most amazing city in the world. I liked being independent and making as many choices for myself as I could, with my limitations. Life was good, and I intended to keep it that way.

The next morning, I got up, made my usual batch of cookies, which would disguise the scent of werewolf, and opened the door to find a bloody ripped-up corpse laid out on my ‘Hello Spring’ doormat. As a werewolf, I wasn’t particularly bothered by a dead animal, but as the elf-gnome society reporter who made her living being part of polite society, it was problematic.

Written in blood were the words: Soft Sweet. Mine which were a lot of words to write in blood. I sighed and got some garbage bags to clean up the carcass, probably rabbit. I washed off the blood and then had to hurry the to make it the six blocks to work. I barely had time to rush into the soup kitchen to drop off my cookies up the street from the Singer office building before I had to keep running. On my lunch break, I left the office, sat in the park in the spring sunshine with happy families all around, and called Max.

He answered with a grumbling, “Just the person I wanted to hear. I’m actually outside your apartment. He left another gift for you. Did you enjoy the first?”

I sighed. “I guess I didn’t need to call you if you’ve got it taken care of. You’re the best alpha in the world.”

“I’m glad you think so. Hopefully, you’ll have the same opinion of me in ten minutes. But you won’t. Ridley’s gone to the Alta to put in a complaint about me. That means that they’ll force you if I don’t. You don’t want them to force you, so you’d better work with me.”

My stomach tightened as his ominous words echoed in my head. The Alta Manada was the ruling werewolf body for our continent. “Force me to what?”

“Choose a mate and protector, as law dictates a turned female do. Move into the pack district in Song. This is the law. We all know Ridley is a pain and a problem, but he’s also good media with connections you lack. I wouldn’t care what anyone pressures me to do, but you are in significant danger. I can’t actually protect you when you’ve removed yourself physically from the pack. There are reasons for these laws, and they’re not all bad. So far you’ve been safe, but it was bound to come down to this, eventually. You’re just lucky you had so many years to figure things out before you were mated to some random furry.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. “And if I refuse?”

“The Alta will come for you. They’ll stick you with whoever wants you with the most power. It usually works out as we wolves worship our mates, and it’s hard to resent someone who adores you more than the moon, but you’ve always been difficult. Is it the gnome or the elf that’s so anti-wolf?”

“I love wolves. It’s the were that’s problematic for me. And if I run?”

“You’ll be hunted. You know the pack. Choose a mate from those you know and like.”

I brightened up suddenly. There was one person that I absolutely couldn’t have. “Sure. You, Max. I choose you.” I tried to make my breath breathy and romantic.

He snorted. “Nope. The best thing about being an alpha, no one mates me without my consent. Think about it. I’ll see you after work. We’ll go to dinner at the community center. You choose your mate. Case closed. No more psychopath Ridley’s setting up to stalk you like the easy prey you are.”

My beast would rip Ridley apart. But he wasn’t really the problem. The trouble was that I’d been reported to the Alta Manada.

“There has to be another option,” I said. “It’s not right that turned wolves are treated different from born.”

“But they are different. Born have families, big ones, and you’ve got nobody. It’s not safe. And you’re fresh blood to keep the gene pool from getting too inbred.”

“That’s Ridley’s problem? His inbred genetics?”

“It’s something. There’s always a shortage of wolf females, and you’re sweet. You’d be adored by whoever you chose.”

“Except you.”

He laughed. “You’re too sweet for me.”

“You just wait, Max. You’re going to fall for the absolute worst person. She’ll be a mermaid.”

“I’m already mated to the moon. Anyway, after work, the community center. If you run, you’ll be hunted. Ridley will definitely volunteer. You don’t want him to catch you. They might mate you to him if it gets that far.” He hung up, leaving me feeling cold in spite of the delicious golden sunshine soaking into my skin.

My time was running out. If I mated to a werewolf, it would only be a matter of time before the news got back to my family, my boss. The rumbling growl in the back of my mind was going to give me a headache. She’d already found her mate, and she wanted him to torture her some more. Stupid wolf. I’d choose any other mate before that monster.

I went back to work, finished writing up the interviews I hadn’t actually gotten to take, but no one would mind if I made something up. I knew what they would have said if werewolf instincts hadn’t taken over. For Ridley, I had to do some research, to see what kind of interviews he usually gave. They were generic ego stuff if with men, slimy if they were with women. The really interesting thing is that there had been a slew of disappearances in Golden, one in particular that Ridley was connected to. That is, he’d been interviewed about it, because he’d dated the female before she’d disappeared. If he had something to do with it, he’d covered it up better than I’d expect someone with his subtlety. No, if he had, someone else was covering it up for him. The plot thickens. And he was leaving me dead animals. Delightful.

“Delphi, do you have those interviews?” Bertram asked, leaning against my cubicle wall.

I nodded. “I’ll email them right this second. You missed a good game.”

“Yeah, I watched from home, so I got that bit worked up already, but it’s not the same as seeing it live. Thanks again for taking a hit for the team. You’re a life saver.” He looked tired. Tax season was exhausting for everyone. I needed to get on mine, but I needed to figure out what to do about the pack meet tonight. Max was the most open-minded, nontraditional werewolf I’d ever met, in spite of being born into one of the biggest clans in the country. The fact that he didn’t feel like I had any choice, that my freedom and independence were over, was more than slightly discouraging. Not only discouraging but frustratingly outrageous. What century were we living in, that I didn’t get to choose for myself, just because I had the misfortune of being turned against my will? That just compounded the injustice.

I took a deep breath and let it out, along with the anger and negativity. I didn’t have time for that. What I needed to do was research more about pack law. If I could find a loophole, I wouldn’t get stuck with some perfectly nice wolf that I didn’t want, that my family would never accept, and that would just be hurt in the process, emotionally and physically if my wolf got out of control. She would wait forever for her true mate, the psychopathic sadist who had kept me alive while I turned, torturing me in the process. For months. Needless to say, my beast and I had very different ideas of what constituted a healthy relationship.

I went to the Library of Antiquities, feeling the age and magnitude of the tomes weighting down the billions of shelves while I crossed the marble lobby beneath the enormous chandelier to the front desk. I asked the clerk where I could find the section on werewolf law. That got raised brows.

“I have some texts in Latin, but…” he said, looking at me skeptically.

“Latin is fine.”

“Also Elvish,” he added, giving me another dubious glance. I looked sweet, cute, and slightly stupid.

“Also fine.” I smiled sweetly at him. “I’m fairly confident in both languages.” I never got tired of being pegged as uneducated. Sigh.

“Oh, well…” He cleared his throat a few times, then directed me up the stairs, past the demon and angel statues guarding the way, and into the mythological creatures section. He scribbled down a call number, and with that, I was set.

I gathered a few of the most likely looking leather-covered suspects off the shelves and got to work at a table in the main second-floor study area. My father, the elf in my parental arrangement, was a researcher. He’d raised his children fluent in all the necessary tongues, including a smattering of celestial. My mother, the gnome, taught me how to bake cookies and knit. She’d taught me other things, like how to plant what under which cycle of the moon, but none of that was particularly relevant to my life. The cookies, absolutely essential, like the knitting, which was my chosen expression of enchantment. Being a gnome-elf made magic difficult. Throw a werewolf into the mix and magic became positively volatile. Still, knitting worked to calm the wolf and channel some of my magic.

Research was almost as soothing as knitting. I’d enjoyed doing the article on the Gray Society, on the Librarian, digging into the how’s and why’s, but politics were even more dangerous than magic. The mayor already knew I was a werewolf, but he hadn’t released the information, and wouldn’t as long as I played his game. It would be nice not to have anything he could use against me. Except that my life would be ruined.

No negativity. I refocused, redoubling my efforts, using slight magic spells to sift through pages in order to track down relevancies.

“The library is closing,” a gentle voice said at my shoulder.

I sat up, startled. It was the Librarian herself, the angelic blonde who’d worked with the HOSTs taking down a demonic guild intent on summoning a greater demon and bringing hell to earth. Again. Seeing her should have made me feel all kinds of awkward, but the library was closing? That was the ultimate disaster! That meant that I missed my appointment with Max and the rest of the pack. I ran a hand through my already mussed hair and gave the books another desperate look.

“I don’t suppose you know anything about pack law,” I said, looking back up at her.

She raised her brows, then glanced at the books, frowning as she leaned closer. “A bit. I used to work with a werewolf who was turned. You’re looking up differences in turned and born, as well as protection from rogue wolves.” She raised a brow at me. “Do they know where you live?”

I winced before I managed a smile. “It’s not a big deal.”

“No?” She took a seat next to me, leaning her elbows on the table, apparently ready to listen.

“It’s not a big deal, truly. He just left an animal on my doorstep.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You want pack protection, but don’t want to be entangled by the pack?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Do you think it’s possible?”

She pursed her lips and then a slow smile spread over her face. It was a lovely smile, but it hinted at the diabolical, making me shift uneasily. “As a matter of fact, no.” My heart sank before she continued. “But I do know someone with an extremely big pool house who would rent it to you. His security is very good. We could camouflage your scent, and then you’d have more time to figure things out. Oh, he’s also a lawyer, so law and loopholes are his specialty.”

I stared at her, embarrassed that she’d think I needed so much help, also that I was tempted to take it and drag some innocent bystander into a pack mess. I shook my head. “I couldn’t possibly accept such an offer.”

“You’ve got a werewolf stalker leaving shredded bunnies at your door. If I didn’t do something, I’d be guilty of negligence when it was your body they found shredded. You did come to my library, and I’m the Librarian, besides which, I practically know you. You’re the lovely reporter who was here the messy day I chopped off Jazharad’s head.”

I wanted help from this magical person who had so many connections and so much magic. The massive library was part of her, so her magic was in finding answers. I nodded slightly, but then shook my head no with a sigh. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t possibly throw myself on the mercy of a stranger.”

“Come on,” she said, tugging my hand. “I need to talk to Cross about my taxes, anyway. You can check out the pool house and ask him about your werewolf law issues, then decide if you’d like to stay there. Otherwise, where will you go? They’ll check hotels first thing. What’s your name?” she asked.

“Delphi.”

“Delphi, I’m Libby. Why don’t you come and check out the pool house? He bragged about it, the jerk. I only have a waterfall and a river.” She sighed heavily. The poor wealthy.

“You think that he’d know about werewolf law?”

Her eyes twinkled. “If anyone knows anything about something that weird, it’d be Cross.” She started stacking the books. “We’ll take these with us. It’s always good to have reading material nearby, and Cross might not have books on werewolf law on hand.”

“I shouldn’t,” I said, but I let her grab my hand and tug me towards the stairs. She had a great deal of charisma and will. Who was I to stop her from protecting the little people?

“Why not? What else were you planning for tonight? Don’t worry. If you don’t like the pool house, you can always go back home.”