"Don't call her that."
"Sorry," I said. "But it's still the truth. I think you're underrating Charlotte. You're her son, and she loves you."
He shook his head. "I don't want her to know."
"Fine, but choose a bodyguard. Why not tell your mom that he's backup in case the police try to make trouble? It's the truth."
"As far as it goes," Richard said.
"The best lies are always at least partially true, Richard."
"You're much better at lying than I am," he said. I looked for anger in the words, but there was nothing. It was just a statement of fact that left his eyes empty and sad.
I was tired of apologizing, so I didn't. "Do you want to take their car and I can drive the four-by-four back to the cabins?"
He nodded. "I'll take Shang-Da with me. He doesn't like you much."
"I thought he might have warmed up to me since the fight this afternoon," I said.
"He still thinks you betrayed me," Richard said.
I didn't even try to touch that one. "Fine, I'll take Jason and Jamil with me. They can give me lessons in werewolf etiquette."
"Jason won't be much help. He's never been part of a healthy pack."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"It means that because our old lupa was such a sadistic bitch, we were all afraid of each other. A normal pack is much more touchy-feely, more casual with each other."
"How touchy?" I asked.
He smiled, almost sadly. "Talk to Jamil. He'll teach you and Jason, too." He seemed to think about that.
"What about the wereleopards, and the vampires?"
"I already asked Verne. They are our guests tonight."
"One big happy family," I said.
Richard looked at me. It was a long, searching look. It took a lot to meet his eyes and not to flinch. "It could be, Anita, it really could be." With that, he turned and walked to his mother and brother.
I watched him go and wasn't sure what to make of his last comment. I used to wonder why he put up with me, but after meeting his mother, I knew. It had taken me three Sunday dinners to realize why Charlotte and I were either in perfect agreement or on opposite ends of any discussion. We were too much alike. A family, like a pack, can only have so many alphas or it tears itself apart. Only Richard's brother, Glenn, is currently married, and his wife and Charlotte butt heads constantly. Aaron is a widower. I'm told the fights between Charlotte and Aaron's deceased wife were legendary. They'd all gone out and married someone like mom. Glenn's wife, though full-blooded Navajo, was still petite, and tough. The Zeeman men seemed to have a weakness for small and tough.
Beverly, as the only girl and the eldest, was wonderfully dominant. She and Charlotte had almost not survived her teenage years, according to Glenn and Aaron. Bev had settled down, gone to college, married, and was pregnant with her fifth child. She had four boys and was trying one last time for a girl.
I'd paid attention to Richard's family because I'd thought they were going to be my in-laws. That didn't seem likely to happen now. Oh, well. I had enough problems with my own family. Who needed a second one?
12
Everyone was in my room getting a lesson in werewolf etiquette. I sat on the foot of the bed with Cherry perched beside me. She'd washed off the black makeup, and her face was pale and young with a dusting of golden freckles across her cheeks. I knew she was my age, twenty-five, but without makeup, she looked younger. Like her own younger more innocent sister. The new clothes added to the illusion. She'd changed into a faded pair of jeans and an oversized T-shirt. Clothes you wouldn't mind shapechanging in. This close to the full moon, sometimes you got carried away and changed early. So I'm told. So I've seen.
Zane leaned against the far wall, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans with the knees worn away to holes. He'd kept the nipple ring. It looked very noticeable against his bare chest.
Jason was wearing shorts that had started life as a pair of jeans. The edges were ragged with strings like he'd picked at them. The only other thing he was wearing was an older pair of jogging shoes, no socks. He lay on his stomach, head pointed towards us, with one of my pillows bundled under his chin, knees bent, feet kicking slowly in the air while he listened to Jamil.
Jamil paced back and forth in front of us in his little smiley shirt. He'd kicked his shoes off by the door and paced on smooth, dark feet. Even just walking he gave off an energy like a low-level current. The moon was nearly full, and energy was easy to come by.
We'd tried to include Nathaniel in the lecture, but we couldn't find him. I didn't like that much. I'd been ready to man a full-scale search, but Zane had seen him going off with one of the female werewolves. The implication seemed to be that they'd gone off for a little one on one. So, no search, but I wasn't happy about it. I wasn't even sure exactly why I wasn't happy about it, but I wasn't.
Nathaniel needed to know some rudimentary greetings because he was mine. No one had ever met a lupa that was also Nimir-ra for a leopard pard, but Verne had decided the leopards would be included because they were mine. So they needed the little greetings lecture. I'd sent Damian and Asher out to find Nathaniel. No one in Verne's pack expected the vampires to be part of the official greeting. In fact, it had been requested that they not touch any of the werewolves unless offered. Strongly requested.
So it was just the four of us watching Jamil pace. He finally stopped in front of me. "Stand up."
It sounded far too much like an order for my taste, but I stood, looking up at him.
"Richard says you have a degree in biology."
Not the opening I was expecting, but I nodded. "Preternatural biology, yeah."
"How much do you know about natural wolves?"
"I've been reading Mech," I said.
Jamil's eyes widened just a bit. "L. David Mech?"
"Yeah, you seem surprised. He is one of the leading authorities on wolf behavior."
"Why have you been reading him?" Jamil asked.
I shrugged. "I'm lupa of a werewolf pack, but I'm not a werewolf. There are no good books on werewolves, so the best I could do was research real wolves."
"What else have you read?" he asked.
"Of Wolves and Men, by Barry Holstun Lopez. A few other books, but those were the two best I've found."
Jamil smiled, a quick baring of teeth. "You have just made my job a lot easier."
I frowned up at him.
"The formal greeting is like one friendly wolf greeting another. The point is to get the nose back here," he touched the hair behind my ear, gently.
"Do you rub the cheek along the other person's cheek like a real wolf would do? I mean in human form, you don't have any glands on the cheek to help you scent mark another wolf."
He looked down at me, solemn almost, nodding. "Yes, you do rub cheeks even in human form. Then you bury your nose in the hair behind the ear."
"How big is Verne's pack?" I asked.
"Fifty-two wolves," Jamil said.
I raised eyebrows at him. "Please tell me that I don't have to rub faces with every single one of them."
Jamil smiled, but it left his eyes serious. He was thinking something. I wanted to know what it was. "Not with all of them, just the alphas."
"How many?"
"Nine," he said.
"Doable, I guess." I looked up into his thoughtful face and just asked, "What are you thinking so hard about, Jamil?"
He blinked at me. "What -- "
"Don't tell me it's nothing. You went all solemn and thoughtful about five minutes ago. What gives?"
He stared down at me. The concentration in his dark eyes was almost touchable. "I'm impressed that you bothered to research natural wolves."
"That's the third time you've used the term natural wolves. I've never heard it before."
Jason rolled off the bed to his feet. "We are real wolves part of the time. We're just not natural."
I looked to Jamil, and he nodded.
"So calling you guys real wolves is an insult?"
"Yes," Jamil said.
"Anything else to watch for?" I asked.
Jamil looked at Jason. They exchanged a look that made me feel excluded. Like there was some unpleasant surprise coming and no one was telling me.
"What?" I said.
"Let's just do the greeting," Jamil said.
"What are you guys hiding from me?"