Well, Jason had no doubt now. The Queen was one of these women. Oliver had been certain the line would pass to one of them, and his senses agreed.
Each of them had their own distinct scent, but they had spent so much time together they were intermingled, and the instinctive drive to protect the Queen extended to her family. At least he was getting paid for it.
Not that he needed the money. His Clan was large and powerful. That was why Oliver had extended the invitation for an alliance. And now Jason was obligated to protect the new Queen, whoever she was. Oliver had suggested marriage, but that had seemed like way too much. An alliance didn’t have to be cemented by mating.
Though if that beautiful middle sister turned out to be a queen, that would be all right. He wouldn’t mind that at all.
He put the thought out of his mind. This wasn’t at all how the alliance should have happened, and it was hard to say if any of the sisters would go along with their great-uncle’s plan. Oliver hadn’t even been certain they knew the truth about their lineage. “Karen died so young,” he’d said. “I know she would have told them all the truth, but even the eldest would have been…well, maybe in kindergarten. And I’m fairly certain she didn’t tell their father. I’m not sure she ever would have.”
How would he even start? “Hello. I’m a werewolf. Your great-uncle and grandfather were werewolves too, and your mother carried the werewolf gene. It’s been passed on to you, though you were probably unaware of it. The dead animals are probably just a tribute from the local werewolves, since one of you is the Queen of the Cambridge clan.”
There was nothing about that that didn’t sound completely crazy. Nothing.
There was always the chance that something more than just tribute was going on. Their father had seemed plenty spooked, and his scent had indicated he wasn’t easy to scare. Men who married werewolves—even dormant werewolves—rarely were. Jason wished he could have asked about the kills in more detail, but there was no way to do that without sounding like a weirdo. This party should at least help him get the lay of the land. Ian would help too. He was his best friend and his second in command, and his ‘partner’ for the purposes of this job. He actually owned Okami Security, and let Jason work part-time when he was needed. This was definitely a case of ‘needed.’ Ian hoped that they could learn more about the will under the cover of their investigation, but they hadn’t managed to get that close yet. Until they knew what the girls knew, they needed to stay close, and they needed to be ready for anything.
It was about a twenty-minute drive from the Wood house to the Opera House where the benefit was, and Ophelia managed to talk for about nineteen of those minutes. It was their first time at an event like this, but of course Jason already knew that, of course he did, and she’d helped everyone pick out their outfits, and how great were these shoes, right?
She was young and she was nervous, and it was mostly the young and the nervousness talking, but Jason really wished she’d be quiet long enough to let her sisters talk. Frieda seemed as grounded as her father; if she was the Queen, she would be an excellent choice. And of course Lucy….
All he really wanted to do was get Lucy alone. She was incredibly beautiful, and her scent was something exquisite, spicy and rich. The blue dress she was wearing made her skin look like satin. “So how does this work?” Frieda said, jolting him from his thoughts. “Do we just stride in with you on one of our arms? Do you hang out in the back?”
“Hanging out in the back was my plan,” Jason said. “I paid my fifty dollars, I’ll be just another guest who cares about protecting the victims of domestic violence. It’s not just a women’s issue, you know. That’s a misperception.”
Lucy laughed. “You’re good at this.”
“I believe it,” he said. “That helps.” And protecting women (and once or twice, a man) from angry werewolves was not always easy, that was for sure. Ian took those cases pro bono. But they weren’t easy. This was a fundraiser he didn’t mind being part of, no matter how glitzy the party might be. A good cause and a chance to find the clan Queen. A win-win situation, for sure.
He pulled into the parking lot. The Opera House was lit up, glittering and golden. He held the door for all three women: Frieda walked out on her own, strong and tall, and Lucy smiled pleasantly enough at him, and it was only a friendly smile but it still made his heart melt. Ophelia tried to hold onto his arm, but he managed to gently steer her toward the door without it being too awkward. “Remember,” he said. “My job is to blend into the background.”
He could already smell that Ian had been around the perimeter of the Opera House, maybe more than once. He would have sent a text if anything had seemed strange. That was fine. A nice quiet event was exactly what they were both hoping for. Maybe if it was really slow, he could even sneak in a little time with Lucy. Just some ‘getting to know you’ conversation. After all, he couldn’t expect them to trust him if he’d never even spoken with them.
He let them walk ahead, which let him get a better look at the three of them, but it was Lucy, her round curves and confident posture, that kept holding his attention. She was an art teacher, and a high school art teacher at that. That must mean she had some ability to command. If she was the Queen—
But Frieda was the eldest, which meant she was probably the Queen. She was beautiful—she should have been a model, not working on a farm—but she wasn’t beautiful like Lucy was.
He was getting way too far ahead of himself, anyway. The clan alliance hadn’t even been codified with Oliver. There was no saying that the sisters would go along with it—and from what he’d seen of them so far, they’d all want a voice, no matter who was the Queen. It was nice to see a family that was so close, even if it would make things more difficult for him.
He reminded himself, not for the first time, that he shouldn’t be thinking like a clan leader right now. The clan could wait. Right now, his job was to protect these women—if they needed protection—and make sure they had a lovely time at this event. That was all he needed to do right now.
The Opera House ballroom was a big room with a high domed ceiling, topped by a window that showed the stars. It really was a lovely room. Four exits, two in the front, one on each side. One elevator, up in the front. Pretty manageable. He could smell Ian over by the food. That sounded like Ian, all right. It did smell damn good; smoked salmon, fresh vegetables, something with fresh bread and cheese. Hard for any werewolf to resist a spread like that.
Jason closed his eyes for a second and fixed the sisters in his mind: Lucy, over with a gray-haired white woman, talking like old friends. Frieda, walking toward Ian and the food. Ophelia—
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Ophelia said.
“Lovely,” he said. “Your father said you’d all volunteered for them?”
“Yeah, Frieda got us all into it. Good cause, good organization, all that. Can I get you something from the buffet?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine.” He noticed Lucy looking in their direction. Was that sympathy in her expression? He needed it. “You go and have fun. Making sure you three have fun is my job tonight, remember?”
“Well, let me know if you need anything,” she said, sauntering away. How old was she? Eighteen? Nineteen? They’d said she was a college student. She had a lot of growing up to do. He had at that age, too.
Ian nodded at him from his spot near the table. He had a plate now, and was doing his best to fade into the background. He wasn’t as tall as Jason, and he was usually better at pulling it off.
The music stopped, and a woman at the front of the room held up her hands for attention. “Friends,” she began. “It’s so wonderful to have so many of you here—”
She introduced a few of the benefactors—not the Johnson family, they were too new to money for that—and started talking about the organization’s mission. “No one,” she said, “should have to live in fear.”
I’ll drink to that, Jason thought to himself. He scanned the room again. Frieda was still at the food, and Ophelia had found a nice-looking young man, far closer to her age, to chat up. Good.
Where was Lucy?
He caught Ian’s eye and mouthed, Lucy.
Ian scanned the room too, then shook his head.
Jason let his wolf off the leash and sought out her scent. There she was. Had she just gone to the bathroom? No, she was headed down the stairs….
He ran for the door.
***