“I would have dealt with her my own way.”
“You Americans are weak, letting your women wag their tongues as much as their tails. Discipline is the fastest, surest way to achieve obedience. Especially with women.”
I’m liking him less with every word.
Johnny stalked forward. Gregor’s men retreated from him, lowering their heads. Gregor did neither.
“If a woman’s tongue wagging is a threat to you, Greg, I’d say you’re the one who’s weak.”
Gregor lowered his head. Glancing around, he observed my broom and supply bag. “May I ask what is going on here?”
Johnny gestured toward me. “She was about to reward these men, who volunteered to stand with me in battle. I believe that freely given allegiance should be rewarded.”
“Allegiance is expected. Anything less is punished.”
Johnny didn’t miss a beat. “Then I’m relieved that you’re not the Domn Lup.”
Gregor assessed me lecherously. It was clear my layers of shirt, hoodie, and blazer, paired with jeans and hiking boots, didn’t fit the mental picture he was forming. He gestured toward the stairwell. “The other one was dressed to give rewards.” He glanced again at the broom leaning against the wall, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What will this one do?”
“She’s a witch.”
“Fuck!” Gregor shouted. “This is your den, man! What is a witch doing here?”
With a roar, Johnny all-out slugged him. Gregor’s head snapped to the side, his knees buckled. He barely caught himself on the heels of his hands.
“Your tongue-wagging is pissing me off, Greg. This ain’t Romania. However you do things there, you can count on our ways being different.”
Transferring onto his haunches, Gregor wiped blood from his lips. His expression was utterly hostile, but he stayed down.
Johnny pointed at the floor. “My house. My rules. Got it?”
Gregor delayed his nod for as long as possible, but when Johnny had that acquiescence, he turned to the men this Omori brought with him. “Got it?”
They each went down on one knee and bowed their heads.
The pack led the Omori upstairs, moving into a meeting room. Johnny, Todd, and I took the long way around. I thought we might be going to the dirija’s office and I wasn’t disappointed. I leaned my broom on the wall beside the door and dropped my bag beside it. Kirk immediately opened the little refrigerator and passed an energy drink—Rockstar—to Johnny, who gulped it down. That transformation had taken a lot out of him.
“Did you know the Omori were coming?” he asked Todd.
“No.”
“He said it was standard procedure.”
Todd’s cheeks reddened at the unspoken accusation in Johnny’s words. “I’ve never been a dirija and I’m not privy to what secrets of protocol they might keep. Did you get a handbook?”
Johnny didn’t answer.
“I didn’t either. Ig never told me anything about the Zvonul, the Rege, or Omori. Why would he? He didn’t intend for me to lead.”
“Todd …”
“Don’t expect me to have the answers you need on this, John.” Though he’d spoken forcefully, he continued in a less aggressive tone. “The grooming Ig gave me for the position was incomplete at best.”
Realizing that prolonging a conversation that reopened Todd’s deepest wounds was not a good idea, I asked, “What are the Omori?”
“Apparently they’re the wærewolf version of the Secret Service with a whole lot of special ops included.” He shot a look at Kirk. “I want to know how they got in.”
Kirk left. Johnny tossed the empty can into the trash. “Let’s go.”
I followed him and Todd to a gymnasium with hardwood flooring. A carpeted platform about three feet higher than the rest of the area was situated to one side about ten feet from the doors we entered. Furnished with a long table and executive chairs, it looked like it belonged in a boardroom rather than a basketball court. The high ceiling was dotted with arena lights, but only one was powered up, illuminating the table and its occupants.
The wæres ahead of me ascended the steps to the dais. The “home team” sat in the comfortable chairs with their backs to the wall; the “away team” faced them, the dark openness and drop-off behind them. I stopped just atop the stairs, close enough to see and hear them, but well out of reach and out of the illumination.
Johnny and Gregor were midtable across from each other. Johnny’s men pushed their seats to the wall and stood, eyeballing Gregor’s men who remained seated. Gregor, with his black eye, bruised jaw, and bloody lips, was a mess. He hadn’t been offered ice or even paper towels. I wondered if the wæres lacked ice packs and a first aid kit, or if the big, bad Omori leader was expected to lick his wounds.
“As head of security for the Zvonul, I must know why you found it reasonable to have a witch in your den.” Gregor sounded almost submissive as he spoke. He was moving his mouth very little. Maybe pain had something to do with the diplomatic tone.
“I don’t answer to you.”
“Respectfully, I remind you that you have not been confirmed by the Rege. Even when that occurs, the authority you wield is not without limits.”
“I revealed myself to you. You’re obligated to acknowledge me as Domn Lup.”
“True. But my first obligation is to the Zvonul. Until the Rege offers you his acknowledgment, his orders remain supreme. While your confirmation is yet pending, I am under his orders to secure this den and this area. And he expects you to comply.”
“If I don’t?”
“He will not come. Your confirmation will become … unlikely.”
Johnny considered for a moment, then answered, “As I told you, she was about to bestow these men with a reward.”
“What manner of reward?”
“She can perform a spell that amplifies moonlight. Amplifies it enough to force them to fully transform.”
“That’s impossible!” A fresh spill of blood ran from his cut lip as he spoke, but he ignored it and continued. “The moon is waning. Less than half her face shows.”
“Three of my friends have already experienced this spell and have been enhanced for it. They now retain their man-minds during their transformation with the full moon. It is a gift I intend to give these men for their service.”
I heard the briefest hesitation before the word “friends.” Erik hadn’t exactly been happy with Johnny since he learned that Johnny could transform at will. I didn’t think it was jealousy, but it was clear that the Domn Lup would have lofty responsibilities to attend to, and that it would cut into band time. I hadn’t known their very friendship might be at stake.
Gregor’s gaze rapidly bounced back and forth as if he was thinking fast. When his jaw flexed, I knew it was a bad sign. “No,” he said.
“No?” Johnny echoed.
“I cannot allow this to proceed.” He spoke not to Johnny but to the men. “This spell must be canceled.” He spat the word “spell.”
Johnny leaned across the table. “Your job doesn’t give you authority here.”
Kirk joined us then, and made knuckle-popping fists as he took his place. The rest of the local pack shifted into ready stances, preparing should this become a fight.
Gregor relaxed into his seat. “The Rege arrives tomorrow. I cannot allow anything to transpire here that may be the first stage of a strike at my lord.”
“You can’t seriously think—”
“The witches have long threatened preemptive attacks on wærewolves. As impossible as your claim is, for security purposes, I refuse to allow her to even attempt it.”
“It’s not up to you, Greg.” Johnny stood and glowered down at Gregor. “These men decide for themselves!”
Immediately, Gregor bowed his head and said, “I yield to your suggestion. Let us ask your men to decide for themselves. Surely you would not have them go through with this spell if they wish to wait until the Rege has returned to Romania? We would, of course, consider such a decision to defer your own plans as a high act of respect in favor of the wishes of the Zvonul.”