Chapter Nine

It took a few days after our meeting at the coffee house, but Jackson and I finally managed to get everybody relevant to the situation into the same place at the same time. And, it's starting off a lot like I expected it to.

The tension in the air inside the Peace House is thick and packed with the promise of hostility and violence. Some of the Clan Chiefs sit in chairs on one side of the room and some of the Packmasters sit on the other side. And Jackson and I stand in between the two groups with all eyes on us – at least, when they're not glaring at one another.

Umak sits in his seat in the center and slightly in front of the group of Packmasters – I imagine he believes this signifies his leadership of the whole group – staring daggers at me. He's pissed that I went behind his back to round up the other Packmasters and get them to this meeting.

“What is this all about, Neesa?” Umak finally asks. “Why are we here?”

“Really,” Mariana purrs from her seat across the room, “I have a date tonight. And I'd much rather be scratching that itch than sitting here with – them – doing nothing more than smelling body odor and dirty laundry.”

The look of disgust and utter disdain on her face for the wolves makes me grind my teeth and sets that dark anger simmering inside of me again. I look to Jackson, my teeth gritted, my eyes narrowed, and my fists clenched. He gives me a slight shake of the head, reminding me to keep myself in check. Yeah, as if I need the reminder. Thanks, Jackson.

“With all due respect, Mariana,” I say, “that's unnecessary. And unproductive –”

“Better than having to smell the cheap ass perfume and stink of desperation comin' off you,” one of the wolves snaps back.

“Evan,” Neesa says, her voice cold. “We don't need that shit either.”

“Then get to the point of this, Neesa,” Umak says, his voice tight with anger. “It's more than obvious none of us care to – socialize – with each other.”

Jackson looks around the room, his dark eyes taking everybody in. “We called you here because something is out there killing bears and wolves alike,” he says. “Something that's tearing both of our people to pieces.”

“And it should go without saying, that if – whatever this is – is strong enough to mutilate both bears and wolves,” I add, “then it's something that should catch our attention and should scare the hell out of us.”

The bears all sit stone-faced, looking straight ahead. They obviously know this and are ready for it. One of the benefits to having a cohesive leadership structure in place. But the wolves all look at each other, their expressions ranging from nervousness to outright disbelief.

“What are you talking about, Neesa?” Umak finally says.

I nod to Jackson who walks over and drops the file he'd shown me earlier into Umak's lap. He looks at Jackson with the same sort of disgust and contempt I saw on Mariana's face earlier and I just shake my head. Umak flips through the file, handing pictures out to the other Packmasters so they could see for themselves.

“What you're looking at,” Jackson says, “are the bodies of two bears who were discovered. The flesh has all but been stripped off and most of the rest of the body consumed.”

The Packmasters mutter amongst themselves, their bodies tense. Having photographic evidence to back up what we're saying is having a profound impact. At least, on some of them.

Umak tosses the file to the floor at Jackson's feet and snorts derisively. “Sounds like a bear problem to me. Don't know why we're here.”

“Because this isn't just a bear problem, Umak,” I say and point to the pictures scattered upon the floor. “Wolves have been turning up looking a lot like that.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks.

“After Jackson showed me the file –”

“Excuse me?” Umak says. “How long have you been working with – him – behind my back?”

I stand up straighter and narrow my eyes. “It's irrelevant,” I say. “The only thing –”

“It's relevant to me, goddammit,” Umak snaps.

“Shut up, Umak,” Evan says. “Let her speak and let us decide for ourselves what's relevant or not.”

“You're too stupid to even realize what's relevant,” Umak says.

“Both of you, shut the hell up,” Charles, a portly older man, roars from his seat. “I want to hear this.”

He turns to Evan and sneers but says nothing, sitting back in his seat and glaring at me. Umak's face darkens with anger that he knows nothing about this. That I've been talking to Jackson behind his back. He's a control freak and I imagine that knowing that I worked outside of the law he set down pisses him off more than anything – even more than the fact that it's Jackson I've been working with.

I turn and see that the bears all look amused as they watch the petty bickering among the Packmasters – which pisses me off. They sit there all high and mighty, looking down their noses at my people. Like they're more civilized. Like they're so much better than us. Yeah, I have my own issues with my people, but the idea that these bears think we're inferior to them fills me with so much rage, I'm half-tempted to draw my sword and start spilling blood.

I open my mouth to speak, but feel Jackson's hand on my arm. When I turn to rip him a new one for touching me, I see that his face is tight with anger. He shakes his head, his eyes telling me to keep calm. Yeah, because it's that easy.

“Go ahead,” he says softly.

I let my eyes linger on his face a moment longer, trying to draw some sense of calm from him – and not having a lot of success at it.

“Anyway,” I say, clearing my throat, “I did some digging of my own and found that four wolves – that I know of – have turned up in this exact same condition and –”

“If this is true, why is this the first we're hearing about it?” Umak said, his chin lifted, his eyes defiant.

I turn to Umak, my eyes burning with anger. “Because you're so busy trying to control everybody around you that you're not paying attention to what's really happening out there,” I snap. “You want to be the lone Packmaster around here so badly that you've got your head up your ass, Umak. You aren't seeing what's going on.”

He gets to his feet, his face contorted in rage. He draws the dagger on his belt and steps forward, his eyes glowing red and a vicious snarl coming from his throat. I'm on the verge of drawing my own sword when Jackson steps in front of me, putting himself between me and Umak, his hand on the hilt of his own blade.

“Put your dagger away,” he says, his voice low and cold.

“Or what?” Umak sneers.

“You don't want the answer to that question,” he says.

I look at Jackson – well, the back of his head really since he's standing in front of me – and then turn and look at the Clan Chiefs sitting behind me. Their faces are calm and they haven't moved a muscle, but I can tell that they're alert and ready to shift into their bear form should things spiral any further out of control. Luca looks at me and cocks his head – as if he's curious or something interests him.

But then he looks away and I turn back to Umak and Jackson. The tension in the air has never been thicker and I'm half-convinced a fight is about to break out. Umak, having gotten to his feet with a blade in hand, doesn't want to back down. He doesn't want to lose face in front of the other Packmasters. And Jackson – I'm not sure what he's doing. But I know he won't back down unless forced to. We're a lot alike in that regard.

I step around Jackson and look him in the eye. My thoughts and feelings are confused – on the one hand, I appreciate him taking up for me – a feeling that surprises me as much as the fact that he took up for me in the first place. In a way, I'm touched. On the other though, I don't need somebody to protect me. I can do that well enough on my own.

Acting on impulse, I reach out and put my hand over his, and give it a gentle squeeze. “It's okay,” I say. “I got this.”

He gives me a small nod and steps back – his hand though, I notice never leaves the hilt of his blade. Turning back around, I glare at Umak, stepping forward until I'm inches from his face.

“Are you going to use that?” I ask, glancing down at his dagger. “Or keep standing there like an idiot with a knife in your hand? Just know, if you opt to use it, there will be consequences.”

The Packmasters around him chuckle and whisper amongst themselves. I can't let him get out of this without losing face. Umak needs to be humbled. And he sure as hell should never be the sole Packmaster in this area. He probably shouldn't be a Packmaster at all – but, that's not for me to decide.

Umak glances around, glaring at the others, before sheathing his dagger and dropping back down into his seat without another word. He fixes me with a glare that promises retribution for my disloyalty and for embarrassing him. But, I don't really care. We've got bigger problems to deal with.

“How do we know it's not them,” said another Packmaster named Glen as he points to the bears, “behind all of this.”

Asher leans forward in his seat and finally speaks. “I think the fact that we're sitting here should be proof enough that we're concerned about this,” he says. “And that we want to avoid conflict with the wolves.”

“This is a serious threat,” Mariana says. “To all of us. You don't really think I'd be here with you if I had a choice, do you?”

“Mariana, enough,” Asher says, giving her an icy look.

“Sounds like a bunch of horseshit to me,” Umak says.

I turn to him and point to the pictures scattered on the floor. “Do those look like horseshit to you?”

He shrugs, but the Packmasters mutter amongst themselves – and I can tell they're nervous, but are leaning more toward siding with Umak anyway.

“We can't trust 'em,” Evan said, pointing to the bears.

“Fine,” I snap. “But you know you can trust me. And if I –”

“Thought we could,” Umak says coldly. “Now? I dunno anymore.”

The heat flares in my cheeks and that dark rage bubbles up inside of me again. Never has my loyalty been questioned – and to have Umak, of all people, questioning me now, fills me with a depth of hurt and anger I never knew myself capable of.

“Come on, fellas,” Umak says as he stands up. “Let's leave 'em to their fairy tales and made up monsters.”

I watch in stunned disbelief as Umak leads the other Packmasters out. Evan though, hesitates at the doorway. He looks back at the other Packmasters nervously and then directly at me. His eyes are serious, his expression grim.

“I know we can trust you, Neesa,” he says. “You need anything – anything at all – you call me.”

I nod as he turns and leaves the Peace House, closing the door softly behind him. The rush of emotion inside of me is as overpowering as it is confusing. Umak and I have had our share of scrapes and it seems like these days, we butt heads more often than not – but he's never accused me of disloyalty. And he's never turned his back on me. I feel like something inside of me broke. Shattered into a million little pieces.

The bitch of it is that I don't know what it is that's broken exactly.

“You okay?”

I turn to see Jackson looking back at me, the light of compassion in his eyes. I clear my throat and nod.

“Of course I am,” I say. “Why wouldn't I be?”

He shrugs. “Just checking.”

I stand beside him as we face the Clan Chiefs. They share an uneasy look amongst themselves – which doesn't do a damn thing to make me feel any better.

“Well, that didn't go as well as I'd hoped,” Asher says.

“Stop looking at me Luca, it's not my fault,” Mariana says. “They walked in here with an attitude.”

“One you didn't help smooth over any,” she replies.

“Whatever,” she snaps. “It's not like they were going to help us anyway.”

“No, they weren't,” I say.

The Chiefs all turn and look at me and I feel my cheeks coloring once more. I'm not a woman who's afraid to speak my mind. Nor am I nervous speaking in front of people. But for the first time in my life, I feel – uncertain. To have Umak do what he did – it makes me feel like I've been cast aside. Like I'm alone. Adrift. Like I have no real direction anymore.

Umak turned his back on me. Called me disloyal. All I can assume now, is that I'm going to be cast out of my pack. Despite that though, I will not turn my back on the rest of the wolves out there. I won't sit on my ass and leave them to be slaughtered. That's not who I am. That's not who I'm ever going to be.

“What do you mean?” Asher asks.

I sigh. “Umak would never allow it,” I say. “It would make him look weak to agree to let you help. And if there's one thing Umak will never abide, it's looking weak.”

“Which, explains the reaction he had to you,” Luca says.

I nod. “Exactly.”

“Which leaves us with the question – what are we going to do about this?” Asher chimes in. “I'm convinced the threat is real. I think we all are.”

All around, everybody's head is nodding.

“We handle it ourselves,” Jackson says. “If the wolves won't help, so be it. We'll do it on our own.”

“Not like we have a lot of choice in the matter,” Mariana says. “But I appreciate your enthusiasm, Jackson. I don't suppose you'd like to –”

“Okay,” Luca says, cutting her off. “We handle it on our own. I move that Jackson and Neesa be granted the powers of Pla'qitay.”

I look to Jackson who seems to sigh – as if a heavy burden has been placed on his shoulders and it's the last thing he wants. But he looks at me and seems to bury those emotions deep inside of him when he sees the questions in my eyes.

“I'll explain later,” he says.

Mariana smirks at him. “We're going a bit old school, aren't we?”

He shrugs. “Seems like the situation calls for it,” he replies.

“Fine, seconded,” Mariana says. “Now, can I go? I have a date –”

“For the sake of expediency, so Mariana can go get laid,” Asher says, a wide grin on his face, “Neesa and Jackson are granted the powers of Pla'qitay. We're done here.”

“Excellent,” Mariana chirps, hopping to her feet and dashing out the door.

“Is she always like that?” I ask.

“Most of the time, yeah,” Jackson replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Luca approaches us. “You two seem to make quite a team.”

Jackson and I exchange a look and chuckle to ourselves. Luca seems to be a little overly optimistic about this newfound alliance – a temporary alliance at that.

“You two have the authority to do what needs to be done,” he says. “Find this threat and end it.”

Jackson nods. “We will.”

Luca stands there for another moment, looking from me to Jackson and then back again. His gaze lingers a little longer on Jackson, an inscrutable expression on his face – almost as if he's trying to convey something. What it is, I have no clue.

“I know you will,” he finally says. “I have every confidence in the both of you.”