Page 36 of Death and Divination
The alpha had a presence that, in my opinion, his son Clinton completely lacked. He was tall, powerfully built, with long, silver hair that was pulled back with a leather tie. His reddish-blonde beard was trimmed to about three inches—a departure from the long beard he usually sported. His blue eyes were sharp, and they eyed me from the top of my head to the tip of my toes, then back up again, lingering on my chest.
Dallas Dickskin was a letch. And I was well aware that if I got within a foot of him, he’d probably pinch my ass or grope me. Which is one of the reasons I kept my distance.
“Ophelia.” He pronounced my name with a sort of oily drawl. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
The werewolves might cling to their culture and their own pack law, isolating themselves more than any of the other residents in Accident, but they weren’t uneducated. It was never wise to underestimate them or assume that because of their ways, they were ignorant hicks.
“I was hoping you could help alleviate a concern of mine,” I said.
I watched him cross to the cabinet and pour himself a whisky, raising the decanter to offer me more. When I declined, he turned to Parlay and frowned.
I’d never seen a werewolf move so fast. With an apologetic glance, she fled the room. Her half-full glass was on the table and she was out the door before I could take a breath.
“I’m always happy to help a Perkins,” Dallas told me with a smile that was very close to a leer.
“I’m glad to hear that.” I took a sip of my whisky, trying to decide how to best word my inquiry. “For want of a better term, this is a welfare check. I’m here to make sure that a female werewolf named Tink is okay and to speak with her a moment in private.”
“When do witches perform welfare checks on werewolves? We’re allowed autonomy, just as the sylphs, and centaurs, and other beings of Accident. Unless you’ve got a particular reason for wanting to check on one of my pack, then I’m gonna have to refuse your request.” The leer was gone from Dallas’ face, replaced by an expression that was a mixture of wary and pissed off.
I backpedaled, relying on the only reason I could give for my request. “I had a vision, and I’m concerned for her well-being.”
Dallas blanched. And that absolutely revealed how unsettling my comment was. The alpha had a darned good poker face, and I could probably count on one hand the number of times I’d seen him thrown off his game. This was one.
“Tell me the details of this vision,” he demanded.
“Blood on oleander leaves. A full moon on a mountaintop. The odor of a corpse at the edge of the woods. A path of blood to a werewolf’s door. And golf balls.”
He blinked. “Golf balls?”
“I’m not really sure if the golf balls are part of the divination or not,” I confessed.
He shook his head and took another belt of whisky, turning his back on me to refill the glass. “I’m not understanding how all that relates to you needing to check on Tink.”
Andhere’swhere I lied and hoped the werewolf couldn’t tell. “She’s at a crossroads. She has a choice to make, and she’s upset and feeling pressured. There’s fear, and threats, and none of the choices are what she wants.”
Dallas snorted and turned back to face me. “That’s life. Hell, there’s no need to do a welfare check ‘cause a werewolf’s struggling to make a decision.”
“I feel that the blood in my vision is hers, that the odor of a corpse at the edge of the woods might be her.”
He caught his breath, his hand tightening on the glass of whisky. “Her life is in jeopardy?”
It was my turn to blink in surprise. I’d seen Dallas in a lot of situations over the years, and although he cared about the safety and welfare of his pack as a whole, he wasn’t all that attached to the individual members. His reaction to the idea that Tink might be hurt or dead—or would soon be hurt or dead—made me suspicious that he knew the female werewolfwasin some danger.
“Yes. Her life is in jeopardy. That’s my interpretation of the vision.”
I might not have much breadth in my witchy abilities. I might not be able to set someone’s pants on fire, or enchant a tent stake, or craft a good-luck charm, or create healing potions, or make insects do my bidding or raise the dead, but in some ways my talents garnered more respect than those of my sisters’. Everyone was wary of a witch who could predict the future—especially if they thought my gift might reveal when and how they, or someone else, might die.
Dallas drank down the whisky and set the glass aside. “Tink is fine. I can assure you that she’s fine. I’ll make sure she’s safe and that no harm comes to her. I appreciate you giving me the heads-up on a potential tragedy. My pack is my responsibility, and I’ll take special precautions to make sure your prediction doesn’t come to pass.”
I cut right through that bullshit and came to the point. “I want to see her.”
He shook his head. “That’s not necessary. Again, I appreciate the warning. I’ll take it from here.”
I took a step toward Dallas, risking an ass pinch or a grope to bring my point home. “I had a divination. I need to see her and speak with her privately.”
“She’s not available right now. I’ll handle this. You have my word. If you’re truly concerned or have any more visions, come back next week and I’ll arrange for you to see her then.”
This was when I lost my temper. I took another two steps and actually poked Dallas Dickskin, the werewolf alpha, in the chest with my index finger. “What did you all do to her? Lock her in a dungeon until she agreed to mate with who you want? Beat her until she complied? Threaten her? Is that why you won’t let me see her? You don’t want me to see her bruises or cuts? You don’t want her to tell me you’re keeping her a captive against her will?”
