She prayed this would work; if it didn’t there would be war. ‘It’s not the right time of the month – that’s been and gone. I might be a squib but I know that werewolves can’t transform unless it’s the full moon.’ Apart from Alexander MacTire. But as long as Longchamps wasn’t aware of that fact, they might get away with it.
‘She’s right,’ Alan said.
‘I know she’s right!’ Longchamps thundered. ‘But look at that thing! That’s a fucking werewolf!’
Alexander bared his teeth as if to agree. Not helpful, not helpful at all.
‘It must be a wild animal,’ Mallory said. ‘Magical, sure, but still an animal. It can’t be a werewolf!’
‘Alan, forget the Understream for now,’ Longchamps snapped. ‘There’s wolfsbane in the storeroom. Go and get some and we’ll find out the truth quickly enough.’
Alan nodded and disappeared and Mallory’s stomach tightened further. She’d bought them some time, but it was minutes at best. Her only chance to remedy the situation was to talk to Alexander and force him to get out of here before World War III was invoked. But she’d have to talk to him alone.
‘Leave the room,’ she said to Chester. ‘I’ll deal with this.’ She turned her head to look at him and realised abruptly that his shock was wearing off.
Longchamps was preparing his own attack, mirroring Alexander by baring his vampiric fangs. There was a steely look in his eye that promised predatory violence, spilled blood and absolute vengeance. Unfortunately Alexander had exactly the same look in his eyes.
Shouting wouldn’t help. ‘Chester.’ Mallory softened her voice. ‘I will sort this out. Wait outside and I’ll deal with it.’
Another figure appeared in the doorway – thankfully it was Boris and not Alan with wolfsbane. ‘Lord Longchamps.’ He beckoned to the vampire who frowned.
‘Go,’ Mallory urged. ‘I’ve got this.’
‘I am not responsible for your safety here,’ the vampire said stiffly.
For goodness’ sake: a moment ago he’d wanted to throw her into a werewolf’s snapping jaws. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Now get out of here.’
Still clutching the bellarmine jug, Longchamps stepped down from the sofa and edged towards the door. Alexander growled and Mallory glared at him. ‘Enough,’ she hissed.
Longchamps sidled further away – but when he was little more than a metre away from the hallway – and just as Mallory was starting to breathe again – Alexander chose to be an idiot again.
He feinted a lunge towards the vampire and snapped his jaws, even though he was too far away for his lupine teeth to connect with flesh. It was nothing but posturing but unfortunately Chester rose to the bait. Without thinking, he threw the bellarmine jug in self-defence. It smacked into Alexander’s snout and bounced off, then crashed to the floor and smashed into several pieces.
Mallory and Longchamps stared at the shattered jug.
‘Oh shit,’ the vampire muttered.
Mallory ran a hand through her hair. ‘Leave,’ she said dully. ‘Please, Chester. Just leave.’
Thankfully, for probably the first time in decades, the vampire did as he was told.
As soon as he’d left the room, Mallory stared at Alexander. He was no longer growling or snarling, he was simply looking at her.
She didn’t have any experience deciphering a wolf’s facial expressions and she wasn’t going to try now. She walked up to him and crouched down until their eyes were level. ‘Do not shapeshift,’ she told him. ‘If you do, Chester Longchamps will find out exactly who and what you are and this won’t end until one of you is dead.’
Alexander snorted.
‘If he dies, what do you think will happen?’ she hissed. He looked away. ‘Yeah. Youknowwhat will happen. Youknewwhat would happen when you came here. For fuck’s sake, Alex! You’re an intelligent person, you know what the consequences could be. Every vampire in Coldstream will be gunning for every damned werewolf, regardless of who they are. People willdie.’
He dipped his head forward to nudge her with his nose but Mallory drew back before he touched her. ‘Don’t,’ she warned.
She inhaled deeply, aware that her breathing was shaky. ‘You saw the note from Chester and you thought you’d come and save me, but I’ve told you that I don’t need you to be my hero. I don’t need you to save me. I might be just a squib but I’m perfectly capable and I don’t belong to you. I’m not your responsibility.’
She paused. ‘I don’t even work for you anymore. Our agreement was only until the night of the Wolf Ball and that’s over. I failed to find you a First Mate and now you’re on yourown. You have no further obligation to me and I have none to you.’
He neither blinked nor made a sound. She had no idea what was going through his head but she couldn’t stop now; she couldn’t allow herself to weaken.
‘You have no idea what you’ve ruined by coming here and doing this.’ Her gaze drifted to the shards of the bellarmine jug. ‘No idea at all.’ She sighed heavily. ‘Don’t interfere in my work ever again. Right now, you’re going to walk out of here as a wolf. You’re not going to look at Chester Longchamps, you’re not going to look at anyone. You’re going to leave very, very quietly.’
