anything in the Weird without at least a third-degree graduation scroll in your hand.”
Jack inspected the table for a bit. “Nonchalant won’t work on Rose and Declan,” he said.
“What happened?” William leaned toward him and fixed Jack with his wolf stare. It was a hard, merciless stare that pinned Jack in place like a knife. If he met a wolf who looked at him like that in the forest, Jack would’ve puffed his fur out and snarled. And if that didn’t work, he’d take off as fast as he could.
“There was a ball,” Jack said, trying to keep his voice monotone. “Or a banquet. One of those things Declan does because of his job as Marshal. A lot of people came. I walked around. They never notice me because I am quiet. Some people were standing there eating shrimp and those crab things on toast. I walked up behind them. They were talking about Rose. An older man said that Declan had all those women he could’ve picked and he had to go to the Edge to get himself a whore, and why do they suppose he had to do that?”
His voice was building. Jack knew he should keep calm, but the fury he’d felt last night woke up again inside him, like an animal that rose to find himself caged. He remembered every word and every sound of that conversation. William had told him before that it was a changeling thing, and his perfect memory was spurring him on now.
“And then the woman in blue on his left said that maybe there was something wrong with Declan, physically. He had to get the kind of woman who was dependent on him completely, so she wouldn’t say anything.”
The anger was scratching at him now, trying to rip him up from the inside out and escape. The skin between his knuckles itched, eager to let his claws out.
“And the other woman, in yellow, she said, ‘Like mother like son. His mother was an Edge woman of ill repute.’ And the man said that he questioned the wisdom of associating with a woman who brought two mongrel children with her and that there must be something really valuable in the services she performs in the bedroom for Declan to keep her around. And then I said . . .”
His voice snapped into a deep, ragged growl. The fury broke and took him off his chair. He knew his eyes were glowing, and he didn’t care. “And I said that the Edgers take care of themselves and don’t come to other people’s houses looking for handouts and insulting people who’re feeding them, like fat ticks leeching off their hosts and complaining that the blood they’re stealing doesn’t taste right. I said, you think my sister is an Edge whore? Then don’t come here to eat her food.”
“Oh, Jack,” Cerise whispered.
“And then everyone was shocked.” Jack paced up and down, snarling. The hair on his arms was standing on end. He remembered the man’s scent, vivid and sharp, his face, his voice. “I wanted to kill him. They should’ve let me kill him! I would snap his neck with my teeth!”
“What happened next?” Cerise asked.
“Declan got this crazy look, and he said, ‘Either the boy is lying, which he never does, or you’ve insulted my wife.’ The man said, ‘At our house, we chain our animals before the arrival of guests. Perhaps you should do the same.’ Then Declan said, ‘Leave or I will throw you out.’ The man said, ‘Is that a threat?’ And Declan said, ‘Would you like it to be?’ The man said, ‘If you insist,’ and put his hand on his sword. And then Rose did her flash. It was shooting around her in spirals like white lightning, and her eyes were glowing with white, and she said, ‘This is over! Leave before I slice you and your family into ribbons.’”
Jack kept pacing. “And then the banquet was over, and I had to go to Declan’s office. He was really mad. I said, ‘I was defending my family! He was a bad guy.’ Declan said that he knew the guy was bad. I asked him why he invited him, and Declan said that he wanted to see who was friendly with this guy, so Declan
Jack inspected the table for a bit. “Nonchalant won’t work on Rose and Declan,” he said.
“What happened?” William leaned toward him and fixed Jack with his wolf stare. It was a hard, merciless stare that pinned Jack in place like a knife. If he met a wolf who looked at him like that in the forest, Jack would’ve puffed his fur out and snarled. And if that didn’t work, he’d take off as fast as he could.
“There was a ball,” Jack said, trying to keep his voice monotone. “Or a banquet. One of those things Declan does because of his job as Marshal. A lot of people came. I walked around. They never notice me because I am quiet. Some people were standing there eating shrimp and those crab things on toast. I walked up behind them. They were talking about Rose. An older man said that Declan had all those women he could’ve picked and he had to go to the Edge to get himself a whore, and why do they suppose he had to do that?”
His voice was building. Jack knew he should keep calm, but the fury he’d felt last night woke up again inside him, like an animal that rose to find himself caged. He remembered every word and every sound of that conversation. William had told him before that it was a changeling thing, and his perfect memory was spurring him on now.
“And then the woman in blue on his left said that maybe there was something wrong with Declan, physically. He had to get the kind of woman who was dependent on him completely, so she wouldn’t say anything.”
The anger was scratching at him now, trying to rip him up from the inside out and escape. The skin between his knuckles itched, eager to let his claws out.
“And the other woman, in yellow, she said, ‘Like mother like son. His mother was an Edge woman of ill repute.’ And the man said that he questioned the wisdom of associating with a woman who brought two mongrel children with her and that there must be something really valuable in the services she performs in the bedroom for Declan to keep her around. And then I said . . .”
His voice snapped into a deep, ragged growl. The fury broke and took him off his chair. He knew his eyes were glowing, and he didn’t care. “And I said that the Edgers take care of themselves and don’t come to other people’s houses looking for handouts and insulting people who’re feeding them, like fat ticks leeching off their hosts and complaining that the blood they’re stealing doesn’t taste right. I said, you think my sister is an Edge whore? Then don’t come here to eat her food.”
“Oh, Jack,” Cerise whispered.
“And then everyone was shocked.” Jack paced up and down, snarling. The hair on his arms was standing on end. He remembered the man’s scent, vivid and sharp, his face, his voice. “I wanted to kill him. They should’ve let me kill him! I would snap his neck with my teeth!”
“What happened next?” Cerise asked.
“Declan got this crazy look, and he said, ‘Either the boy is lying, which he never does, or you’ve insulted my wife.’ The man said, ‘At our house, we chain our animals before the arrival of guests. Perhaps you should do the same.’ Then Declan said, ‘Leave or I will throw you out.’ The man said, ‘Is that a threat?’ And Declan said, ‘Would you like it to be?’ The man said, ‘If you insist,’ and put his hand on his sword. And then Rose did her flash. It was shooting around her in spirals like white lightning, and her eyes were glowing with white, and she said, ‘This is over! Leave before I slice you and your family into ribbons.’”
Jack kept pacing. “And then the banquet was over, and I had to go to Declan’s office. He was really mad. I said, ‘I was defending my family! He was a bad guy.’ Declan said that he knew the guy was bad. I asked him why he invited him, and Declan said that he wanted to see who was friendly with this guy, so Declan
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