the pack’s well-being and activities, and receive his orders which could range from, ‘Keep doing what you’re doing’ to ‘Destroy any fairy circles you see’ to ‘Scary things are heading your way so kill them all.’ Julia had been to visit them only a few times, usually for particularly glamorous and important social celebrations, whilst I didn’t think any of the rest of us plebs had ever even been close to them. Elitist scum. The girls spent inordinate amounts of time following the Othernet gossip about some of the more visible Brethren members, oohing and aahing about the ongoing fights, relationships and power struggles, but I’d never really been able to muster up the will to care. I should probably change that now, I figured. Know thy enemy.
Julia crooked her little finger at me. “Come.” For now, I followed.
*
The office was a small cramped space piled full of papers and odds and ends. It led into John’s study on one end and the great hall on the other. I was never entirely sure what it was really supposed to be used for. Whenever there was paperwork to be filed, usually whenever there was a kill order fulfilled or an incident deemed serious enough to be written up, then one of the pack would be designated as secretary. I saw it as demeaning and worthless to spend any time at all cooped up writing about crap that had already happened but I was well aware that were plenty of shifters who enjoyed the quiet – and the mind-numbing safety - of the four walls. I picked up a loose sheet that had found its way onto the floor which said something about Directive 98 of the Way being breached without probable cause. I almost laughed. Directive 98 referred to ‘wearing clothes unbecoming an officer of the pack’. Given that shifters transformed naked, I had a hard time working out how any clothes could be more shocking than seeing it all hang out all the time anyway. There were 232 Directives in total. Clearly, someone somewhere had absolutely no sense of humour and no life. Then it occurred to me that the fact that I knew all the Directives inside and out probably meant that it was me.
Julia pulled up an ancient swivel chair that had bits of grey stuffing sticking out of the back of it and sat down heavily. For a few minutes she didn’t say anything at all. I laid the paper down on the cluttered wooden desk and waited.
Finally she spoke. “We need you here and we want you here, Mackenzie. Don’t ever forget that. This is not just about the geas or about the Brethren. It’s about us too.”
I was taken aback at the honesty in her eyes and suddenly found myself blinking furiously.
‘Don’t take me wrong,” she continued, “you’re antagonistic and temperamental. You don’t follow orders and you can’t be compelled. And whatever it is you’ve got inside you that flares up causes me great concern. God only knows how you can do some of the things that you can do. But I would trust you with my life, and the pack’s lives, and I know they feel the same. I also know that there is nothing you wouldn’t do for us.”
“Anton might argue with you on that one.”
“He’s young. He’ll get over that chip on his shoulder soon enough. My point is,” she leaned forward, “that I am not protecting you because I’m being forced to as a result of some spell. You might not be a shifter but you are still one of us. Not only that but we need you to find out what happened to John, just as soon as we know it’s safe to do so and we have all the information we need. I love everyone in this pack but I have no illusions that we don’t have many able fighters. And you appear to have certain skills and abilities that are closed to us. So we need you emotionally and physically.”
I struggled to find my voice. “I…I…need you too. I need all of you.”
She picked at the arm of the chair. “I know, dear. Which is why we need to make very sure that the Brethren don’t have any reason to pay you any attention whatsoever. I can gloss over your part in John’s final hours and I’m confident that we’ve improved on the scent lotion from last time. As long as you regularly apply it every six to