Mallory shuddered; the morning’s hangover was still fresh in her memory. ‘Water, please.’
‘You can have whatever you desire.’
Her mouth was suddenly very dry. ‘Definitely water.’
Nick nodded. ‘I have arranged a special amuse bouche for you.’ He opened a bag of salt-and-vinegar crisps and tipped one onto the plate in front of Mallory and one onto the plate in front of Alexander. They both stared at his offering. ‘Too much?’ he asked with an arch wink.
‘Too much,’ Alexander agreed. ‘Off you go.’ The teenager grinned and loped away.
‘He’s a good kid,’ Mallory said.
‘He is. He’s been through a lot but he’s coming out the other side. You know his parents died in an accident?’ Mallory nodded. ‘I was close to Nick’s mum – my sister – when we were growing up. Have I mentioned my bastard of a father?’
‘Yes,’ she said softly.
‘Partly because of him, Andrea and I stuck close to each other, for comfort as much as physical safety. As soon as she was old enough, Andrea couldn’t wait to get out of Coldstream. She wasn’t interested in being a werewolf – she’d have ripped that part out of her body if she could have done. For a long time webarely spoke, not because we’d argued but because we simply drifted apart. We were just starting to regain our old relationship when she died.’
As he drew in a breath and looked away, Mallory realised how difficult this was for him. He was trying to open up, to show his more vulnerable side; he really was much more than just his job title.
‘I’m so sorry, Alexander.’
He smiled wanly. ‘Thank you.’
‘What was your sister like?’
‘Nothing like me.’ His smile grew warmer. ‘She was fun loving and not afraid to say exactly what she thought. People always think I’m the strong one in the family but it was her. She wasn’t afraid of anything.’ He glanced at her. ‘You remind me of her.’
‘I always wanted a sister,’ she said. ‘I was an only child.’
‘Are your parents still around?’
‘No.’ She sighed, though it wasn’t an unhappy sound. ‘They were lovely people and I had a really happy childhood. They never quite understood my fascination with Preternaturals and Coldstream, but they knew I wanted to live here and they were happy for me when I found my place here. They visited a few times before they passed, but I usually went to see them. They found Coldstream quite unnerving.’
Alexander examined her with frank curiosity. ‘Do you wish you had magic?’
‘Sometimes.’ Mallory shrugged. ‘In the same way that I sometimes wish my hair was poker straight or I was good at maths or better at organising myself.’
‘You shouldn’t.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You’re already perfect as you are.’
Mallory smiled. ‘Thank you, Alex. So are you.’ His eyes crinkled with pleasure. ‘And you’re already getting top marksfor tonight, even though we’ve not even had the starters. Be this version of yourself with Cathy and she’ll be completely charmed.’
A muscle jerked in his cheek. ‘Have I charmedyou?’
Far, far too much. Mallory continued to smile and answered lightly, ‘Absolutely. You’ve rocketed to the top of the class.’
The next fewdays passed in a blur. Although she’d proved she was more capable than her squib status suggested, Mallory had several sessions with Samantha and some other MacTire werewolves to improve her self-defence techniques. It was good to brush up on old skills and she learned far more about what werewolves were capable of during the full moon. Each session confirmed that Alexander had been right; she should never have ventured out during those dark hours. She wouldn’t tell him that, of course, and in any case he stayed away from the gym. She tried not to wonder why.
Mallory had dealt with numerous werewolf clients over the years and counted several of them as friends, but she’d never spent this much time in their company and she marvelled at the intricate relationships they formed as a result of being part of a pack.
There were forty-one members of the MacTire pack, including Alexander, although only a dozen or so of them lived in the main stronghold. They treated each other like siblings even though not all of them were blood relatives and there were vast differences in age. It was akin to being part of the Waltons if the fictional family had been larger in size, considerably more sweary and turned furry once a month.
‘No, not the Waltons. Think of us as more like the Medicis,’ said Hannah, one of the younger werewolves who’d joined the MacTires with her mother from a failing wolf pack almost a decade ago. ‘Dynastical, powerful and,’ she pulled a face, ‘occasionally corrupt.’
Mallory blinked. ‘Corrupt?’
‘Not now Alex is in charge,’ she said. ‘But in the past…’ Her voice trailed off. She was referring to Alexander’s father and possibly others who were also long gone. Mallory nodded her understanding.
Hannah twisted her fingers. ‘It was my mother who made the decision to join the MacTires. I didn’t get a say in the matter.’
