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to warrant the Beast Lord’s attention?” I asked dryly.
“You’re sitting in the diviner’s office, aren’t you?”
Touché.
The Beast Lord was the Pack King, the lord of the shapechangers, and he ruled his brethren with an iron fist. Few ever saw him and the mention of his title was enough to make the loudest shapechanger shut up. In other words, he was precisely the kind of fellow my father and Greg had warned me to avoid. I ground my teeth, thinking of a way to weasel out of it. I would have to go and see the People sooner or later to find out about the vampire. But so far nothing necessitated my walking into the Pack’s lair.
“Your safety’s guaranteed,” Jim said. “I’ll be there.”
“That’s not the reason,” I murmured. There had to be a way to dodge this invitation. I glared at the stubborn doodle . . .
“Look,” Jim said, making an obvious attempt to sound reasonable, “consider the . . .”
“Tell him I’ll meet him tonight someplace private,” I said. “I’ll answer his questions if he answers mine.”
“Agreed. Eleven o’clock, corner of Unicorn and Thirteenth.”
He hung up. I tapped the desk with my fingers. I finally made sense of the doodle. The head of a howling wolf silhouetted against the semicircle of the moon. The sign of the Pack. Corwin belonged to the Pack.
There was a small matter of Maxine to attend to. I concentrated and whispered so quietly I couldn’t hear myself. True communicators could focus enough to broadcast their thoughts without vocalization, but I still had to move my lips like a dufus.
“Maxine?”
“Yes, dear?” Maxine’s voice said in my head.
“Were there any other calls for me?”
“No.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I put the file back into its place and walked out of the office. Maxine was a telepath. A strong one. From now on, there would be no thinking done in the office.
I left quickly, almost breaking into a run on the stairs. The idea of someone digging in my head took some getting used to.
I went back to the apartment. I sat on the floor, leaned against the door, and took a deep breath. All my life I was taught to stay out of the way of the powerful. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Don’t show off. Guard your blood, because it will betray you. If you bleed, wipe it clean and burn the rag. Burn the bandages. If someone manages to obtain some of your blood, kill him and destroy the sample. At first it was a matter of survival. Later it became a matter of vengeance.
Meeting the Beast Lord meant plunging head first into the supernatural politics of Atlanta. He was one of the heavyweights. I could choose not to meet the Beast Lord. All I had to do was walk away. It would be so easy. A vision of me squatting over a human corpse, stuffing shreds of limp meat into my mouth flashed before my eyes.
The apartment was silent. It felt like Greg. It was suffused with his lifeforce, with everything that made him what he was. He was like my father, direct, unbending, doing his own thing and never worrying about how the world would look upon him.
I couldn’t let it go. I would find whoever killed him and punish them, if not for Greg, then for me, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the eye.
WHEN LIFE BACKS YOU INTO A CORNER AND OFFERS you no escape, when your friends, your lover, and your family abandon you, when you’re at the end of your rope, panicked, alone, and losing your mind, you know you’d give anything to make your problems go away. Then, desperate and eager, you will come to Unicorn Lane, seeking salvation in its magics and secrets. You’ll do anything, pay any price. Unicorn Lane will take you in, shroud you in its power, fix your problems, and exact its price. And then you will learn what “anything” really means.
Every city has one of those neighborhoods—dangerous, sinister places—so treacherous that even the criminals who prey on other criminals shun them. Unicorn Lane
“You’re sitting in the diviner’s office, aren’t you?”
Touché.
The Beast Lord was the Pack King, the lord of the shapechangers, and he ruled his brethren with an iron fist. Few ever saw him and the mention of his title was enough to make the loudest shapechanger shut up. In other words, he was precisely the kind of fellow my father and Greg had warned me to avoid. I ground my teeth, thinking of a way to weasel out of it. I would have to go and see the People sooner or later to find out about the vampire. But so far nothing necessitated my walking into the Pack’s lair.
“Your safety’s guaranteed,” Jim said. “I’ll be there.”
“That’s not the reason,” I murmured. There had to be a way to dodge this invitation. I glared at the stubborn doodle . . .
“Look,” Jim said, making an obvious attempt to sound reasonable, “consider the . . .”
“Tell him I’ll meet him tonight someplace private,” I said. “I’ll answer his questions if he answers mine.”
“Agreed. Eleven o’clock, corner of Unicorn and Thirteenth.”
He hung up. I tapped the desk with my fingers. I finally made sense of the doodle. The head of a howling wolf silhouetted against the semicircle of the moon. The sign of the Pack. Corwin belonged to the Pack.
There was a small matter of Maxine to attend to. I concentrated and whispered so quietly I couldn’t hear myself. True communicators could focus enough to broadcast their thoughts without vocalization, but I still had to move my lips like a dufus.
“Maxine?”
“Yes, dear?” Maxine’s voice said in my head.
“Were there any other calls for me?”
“No.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I put the file back into its place and walked out of the office. Maxine was a telepath. A strong one. From now on, there would be no thinking done in the office.
I left quickly, almost breaking into a run on the stairs. The idea of someone digging in my head took some getting used to.
I went back to the apartment. I sat on the floor, leaned against the door, and took a deep breath. All my life I was taught to stay out of the way of the powerful. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Don’t show off. Guard your blood, because it will betray you. If you bleed, wipe it clean and burn the rag. Burn the bandages. If someone manages to obtain some of your blood, kill him and destroy the sample. At first it was a matter of survival. Later it became a matter of vengeance.
Meeting the Beast Lord meant plunging head first into the supernatural politics of Atlanta. He was one of the heavyweights. I could choose not to meet the Beast Lord. All I had to do was walk away. It would be so easy. A vision of me squatting over a human corpse, stuffing shreds of limp meat into my mouth flashed before my eyes.
The apartment was silent. It felt like Greg. It was suffused with his lifeforce, with everything that made him what he was. He was like my father, direct, unbending, doing his own thing and never worrying about how the world would look upon him.
I couldn’t let it go. I would find whoever killed him and punish them, if not for Greg, then for me, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the eye.
WHEN LIFE BACKS YOU INTO A CORNER AND OFFERS you no escape, when your friends, your lover, and your family abandon you, when you’re at the end of your rope, panicked, alone, and losing your mind, you know you’d give anything to make your problems go away. Then, desperate and eager, you will come to Unicorn Lane, seeking salvation in its magics and secrets. You’ll do anything, pay any price. Unicorn Lane will take you in, shroud you in its power, fix your problems, and exact its price. And then you will learn what “anything” really means.
Every city has one of those neighborhoods—dangerous, sinister places—so treacherous that even the criminals who prey on other criminals shun them. Unicorn Lane
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