Page 10 of Waifs And Strays
No, thanks.‘I was brought up not to speak to strangers,’ I said. ‘And I don’t want to go for a drive.’
I caught a flicker of amusement in her face. ‘It’s not a question of whatyouwant, Ms McCafferty, it’s whatweneed.’
‘Is that the royal “we”?’ I asked.
On cue, the rear passenger doors opened and two burly male werewolves stepped out wearing identical dark suits. They gazed at me as if I were a tasty morsel; one of them even licked his lips.
‘No,’ the woman said. ‘It’s not.’
I considered my choices. ‘I’m still declining the offer,’ I told her.
I expected the two suited goons to rush forward and try to bundle me into the vehicle but the woman surprised me. She nodded and reached into the car for something, though she didn’t pull out a weapon or produce a threatening spell; what she pulled out was a cat carrier.
I stared at the carrier, then at her. Well played, scary lady. Well played. I had to hand it to Quack and Ribbit as well. Despite their injuries, they must have been paying greater attention to me in the alleyway this morning than I’d realised.
From inside the carrier, two very annoyed yellow eyes shone balefully in my direction. She Who Hisses lived up to her name and hissed.
‘How about a trade-off?’ The woman pointed to the carrier. ‘Two hours of your time for…’ her mouth tightened ‘…this delightful creature.’
I sighed. Score one to the werewolf in the power suit.
The goons left the carrier with She Who Hisses inside my front door, which suggested they expected to return me later in the day – or that’s what they wanted me to think. Either way, I played nice and climbed into the back seat.
‘You know,’ I said, as they sandwiched me between them like a slice of ham, ‘it’s faster to take the tram.’
Nobody deigned to answer; they’d gotten what they wanted and were no longer interested in conversation. The woman put her foot down and expertly reversed the vehicle. If I’d been hoping to witness the shiny car getting stuck down a narrow street, I was going to be disappointed because it was obvious she knew what she was doing. In any case, by the time she’d manoeuvred into a forward-facing position, the goons had plonked a velvet hood over my head. To add to my irritation, they tied my hands together. It felt like overkill but I knew better than to complain.
I could have spent the journey trying to work out where we were heading but I already knew. I leaned back and figured I might as well take the opportunity for a catnap. I performed far better when I was well rested, and one should never miss the chance of a little snooze.
I must have slept more deeply than I’d intended because one of the goons had to shake me awake when we arrived. They hauled me out of the car and half-dragged, half-pushed me into a building. I sensed wooden floors and widehallways.
Hands pressed down on my shoulders and I was forced into a chair; only then was the hood yanked off my head.
I blinked and looked around. I was in the centre of a large room with shuttered windows, a roaring fire and lots of solid-looking furniture of the sort that was handed down through generations rather than purchased on a budget for the short term.
‘She fell asleep on the way here,’ Goon One announced.
From behind me a smooth voice drawled, ‘Did she, indeed? Either she is very stupid or very confident.’
‘Or very tired,’ I said aloud.
There was a short laugh. ‘That’s also a possibility.’ There were footsteps then their owner walked around and faced me. Alexander MacTire, head of the MacTire pack. I’d expected as much.
‘Greetings, Ms McCafferty,’ he said. ‘You’ve been causing me some problems today.’
I looked him up and down. He held his wolf well; truthfully, if I hadn’t already known who he was, I’d have questioned if he were a werewolf at all. His hair was dark, albeit peppered with shots of silver, and his skin was tanned. While I didn’t get the same sense of simmering potential from him that I’d got from the woman, he exuded authority. This was someone who was used to being in command and who enjoyed the role of leader. But I already knew that.
‘Do you like what you see?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.
I managed a shrug. ‘There’s not much of a resemblance between you and your nephew.’
‘He favours his father. His mother was my younger sister.’
‘Did you have her killed?’
MacTire looked genuinely astonished – and he wasn’t the only one surprised by my question. The nearest goonbackhanded me with enough strength to send me flying off the chair and I landed on the floor with a heavy thump. Ouch.
To give him his due, Alexander MacTire was at my side in a second to help me up while glaring at his minion. ‘We don’t do that,’ he said with quiet menace. ‘Leave us.’
