The Wolven

“No,” Danyon said.



“Now I see what you meant when you said the other cultures weren’t at risk,” Jagger said. “But you’re still going to need help. I think we should get the leaders of the subcultures together and let them know. If—”



“No. This needs to stay low profile,” Danyon said.



Jagger held up a hand. “Please, hear me out. If what you’re saying is true, then the wolven in and around New Orleans aren’t the only ones at risk. This is much bigger than any one group in one city. Weres around the world could be in danger. The only way this is going to be stopped is if we all band together.”



“Whether the other leaders are told or not, this information has to remain in this room,” Shauna warned. “If it gets out, other scumbags may decide to jump on the bandwagon right away. The problem gets out of control then.”



“Good point,” Fiona said.



“Danyon, I only offer my opinion on the matter, about including the leaders, so everyone can pitch in and help,”



Jagger said. “But we’ll take your lead on this. If you want to keep it just between us, then we’ll honor your decision, and the four of us—Ryder, Fiona, Shauna and I—will do everything we can to support you.”



All eyes were on Danyon now.



As much as he hated to admit it, Jagger was right. He had been so focused on the weres in and around New Orleans that he hadn’t seen the broadness of that scope. Weres in other parts of the United States—around the world—in danger. The vastness of that changed every thing.



There was only one answer he could give them. Any other response would make him an irresponsible leader.



And that was unacceptable.



Danyon agreed to calling the leaders together for a meeting, but kept one thing in mind and to himself. He wasn’t going to just sit on his hands and wait for everyone to join hands in a council meeting. It might take hours, even days, before they got all the leaders together.



Even an hour was too long to wait. Something had to be done now, before another were died.



And he planned to be the one who took care of that something.



Chapter 12



Attending a meeting at three in the morning was not something Shauna’s body or mind appreciated. Both had to be forced into compliance. She was surprised they were able to gather everyone so quickly. The leaders of the three major subcultures in New Orleans owned their own businesses, which made them difficult to pin down even with extended notice. Compound that with the record number of tourists swarming the city right now, and this morning’s meeting was nothing short of a miracle.



Since the business to be discussed was about the weres, August had offered his conference room for the gathering. The elder’s response to having the meeting in the first place had been Shauna’s second surprise. She’d expected August to be miffed that she had taken matters into her own hands and leaked word about the murders, along with some of the confidential details surrounding them. To her amazement, August took the news very well. In fact, he even commended her, saying that keeping the twelve hour vow of silence she had made with Danyon, then carefully deliberating matters before making the decision to get the others involved, showed initiative and integrity, all signs of an excellent Keeper. She had been taken aback and humbled by his praise.



Shauna and her sisters usually met with August and the leaders of the other subcultures at least once a year. The purpose of that meeting was to share basic information about city business, as it pertained to each race, and to generally keep tabs on one another. In the past year, however, they had had to meet multiple times due to major problems plaguing the city.



Six months ago, it had been the cemetery murders. Two women were discovered lying across tombs in a local cemetery, each dead and completely drained of blood. The exsanguinations heaped suspicion onto the vampires, then fingers pointed to the shape-shifters since they were able to mimic a vampire in appearance and action. Not much was said about the werewolves then, because weres are basic black-and-white. When they kill, they usually slaughter, and the bodies of both women had been in pristine condition. Regardless, that hadn’t stopped one race from accusing the other. Everyone had been on edge.



The situation worsened three months later, when a group of rogue walk-ins tried taking over the city. It was then that Ryder Mallory came into town. Ryder was a bounty hunter and a shape-shifter, and he had been tracking the rogue walk-ins for quite some time. The number of casualties from the walk-in invasion exceeded those from the cemetery murders. So did the number of suspects. This time every race was subject to blame, and the accusations flew at lightning speed. Had it not been for Ryder, Caitlin and Jagger, the entire city of New Orleans might have been destroyed.



Now, here they were again.



Another crisis. More death.



Had there ever been a time when the world was quiet? When no blood was shed because of someone or something’s greed or anger? When no one had to fight to protect some small corner of the earth they called home?



And what about the future? Was it possible to have one without strife and pain? Wars were still fought in the name of peace, and strife still flowed through the streets of the world in the name of equality. Every generation basically did the same thing as the one before it. If the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results, then Shauna figured the future was pretty much doomed right out of the gate. All anyone could do was the best they could do with the life that was given to them. Everything else seemed up for grabs.



Shauna was just settling into a chair at the table in August’s conference room, when Rita, August’s assistant, ushered Danyon inside.



They exchanged smiles as Rita rearranged a tray of pastries. Danyon paused near the empty chair beside Shauna, then moved to the opposite side of the table and sat across from her. At first, Shauna didn’t understand why he had purposely chosen not to sit beside her. Then it struck her…



When Andy Saville had arrived at the scene of Simon’s murder, the were had given her a look that said, ‘You’re a woman—a kid—what the hell are you doing here?’ Had it not been for Danyon creating an environment of acceptance, her presence would not have been tolerated, and she never would have been taken seriously. He was doing the same thing for her now by choosing that particular position at the table. Ninety percent of the attendees would be male, and Danyon knew if he sat beside her, any time one of the leaders had a question, they would direct it to him simply because he was male and an alpha. She might have been a Keeper, but she was still female and young, and the leaders weren’t used to her being a front-runner at the council meetings. Fiona always took that position. Today would be different, though. Everyone would be discussing weres, which were Shauna’s responsibility—and that meant she would be plopped right on top of first base. Danyon was giving her the room she needed to be a real part of the team.



Within a couple minutes of Danyon’s arrival, Fiona and Jagger appeared, and following them, Caitlin and Ryder. Jagger and Ryder didn’t carry leadership titles in their cultures, but Jagger’s experience as a homicide detective and Ryder’s as a bounty hunter made both invaluable assets, so they had been asked to attend.



Next in line was David Dulac, leader of the vampires and the owner of a club called The Underworld, which was located on Esplanade. It was unlike any other bar in the city. The building was a deconsecrated church, and it still sported stained glass windows, a cavernous main section and multiple balconies and private rooms. David never did anything in a small way.



Trailing David was Armand St. Pierre, the acting head of all the shape-shifters and the owner of Muriel’s, one of the higher-end restaurants in New Orleans. Save for August, Shauna found Armand to be one of the more elegant leaders. He had an aristocratic air about him. To those who didn’t know Armand, he might have been considered snobbish, when that wasn’t really the case. He was simply a very private man.



August arrived last, and he immediately surveyed the silver tea and coffee pots in the center of the conference table, along with the fresh croissants and pâtè, shrimp puffs and beignets. Evidently satisfied that there was plenty for all to eat and drink, August dismissed Rita with a nod.



As soon as the conference room door closed behind her, August said, “Please be seated at your leisure, everyone.” Even at three in the morning, August looked rested and ready for business. His black Armani suit had not one wrinkle, and his long, silvery-white hair was combed away from his face, not a strand out of place.



He took his place at the head of the table. “I want to thank all of you for clearing your calendars so we could meet quickly, and for your willingness to attend at such an early hour.”



“No problem,” Ryder said.



“I’m terribly sorry for your losses, August,” Armand said.



“Same here,” David Dulac said. “It’s good that you’ve called us together. Things might look like they’ve settled down in the city after the disaster we had with the walk-ins, but to tell you the truth, my people have been riding on the edge of panic ever since.”



“Anyone in your group stick out as particularly jumpy or nervous lately?” Ryder asked.



“What makes you ask that?” David said, his tone defensive. “Why pick on my group? I’m sure every leader here can testify that their communities are just as antsy since the walk-ins. We’ve gone through a lot this year.”



Ryder held up a hand. “Hang on, I didn’t mean to single out your group. One of the reasons we’re here is to figure out what to do about this situation, right? In order for us to do that, we need to be able to lay everything out on the table. That includes looking at the possibility that someone in our own community could be the murderer. I’m sure that’s uncomfortable for everyone here, but it’s necessary if we’re to get to the bottom of this quickly. Right now, it appears that weres are the murderer’s target, but we don’t know how long it will stay that way. All of our people could be in danger. So, please, don’t take my question personally. I just thought it would be a good jumping off point since you mentioned your group was still edgy from the last crisis.”