She just had to hold it together until then.
Derek had been to Franklin’s small clinic a dozen times since he’d become a shapeshifter. The building was tucked away from heavily trafficked streets and seemed unremarkable from the outside. The clinic provided free care to walk-in patients and was reputedly run on the donations of several rich beneficiaries who preferred to remain nameless.
Like most supernaturals in New Orleans, Derek knew the truth. Whatever stream of revenue kept the clinic’s doors open was supernatural in nature, as were a large number of the patients who visited on any given day. Mixed in with the human staff were a number of psychics, witches and shapeshifters who treated their kind discreetly, regardless of affiliation.
It was neutral ground. Franklin permitted no feuds or political distinction inside the walls of his domain. And his domain it was, no matter how often he protested that he just kept things running. Within the four walls of the clinic, his word was the law, and the law was peace.
Franklin met them on the sidewalk outside with a smile and a short nod. “Your dad’s already here, Nick. I put him and Mrs. Maglieri in the conference room.”
“Thanks, Franklin.” She was pale even in the heat, and her hands trembled as she tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’d better not keep them waiting.”
The conference room was oblong and ran the length of the back of the building. Inside its pale blue walls was a long table. Only three chairs sat at it now.
Derek paused just inside the door out of instinct, standing with Franklin as Nick crossed the room on her own. Standing on the opposite side of the table were two wolves whose power screamed danger though they stood quietly.
He didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d envisioned Nick’s father, but it certainly wasn’t the man he saw. John Wesley Peyton rivaled Derek’s height, but he was as wide as Aaron through the shoulders and even more intimidating. The woman next to him—presumably Luciano’s mother—seemed slight in comparison. Nick looked outright tiny.
But what Luciano’s mother lacked in physical presence she made up for with a cool air of confidence. It was clear she considered herself the equal or better of every person in the room, up to and including the Alpha, and she barely spared Derek a glance.
Nick’s father, however, stared at him. He could feel the Alpha’s calculating assessment, and it was then he realized how strongly Nick carried his scent.
So much for subtle. He’d never have another chance to make a first impression—a good impression—and it took him a moment to remember it hardly mattered. Nick’s father had probably compiled a file on him the first time he’d stepped into Nick’s bar. There was no chance to make any impression at all. He’d been judged long ago and found unsuitable.
It had never seemed like such an insurmountable barrier before.
“Nicole.” Her father held out his hand.
“Hi, Daddy.” She took it, and he enfolded her in a quick hug. When she pulled away, she blinked hard. “Thank you for meeting me, Enrica.”
The woman nodded once.
Nick went on. “I brought a peace offering. One of surviving men from—”
Franklin cleared his throat quietly behind him, and Derek turned to see that Luciano had joined him at the back of the room. “Nick, your father and Enrica thought it would be best if Luke and Derek waited in my office while you three have your talk. That agreeable to you?”
Stricken, she stared at her father, who met her disbelieving look with an impassive expression. “I…” She turned her gaze to Derek, an apology in her dark eyes. “If that’s what they prefer.”
Derek tried to smile. “It’s okay. I’ll wait for you.”
The two older wolves seemed surprised he’d spoken, and Luciano cleared his throat. “Come on, Gabriel. They have things to figure out.”
He couldn’t turn away, not with Nick staring at him with guilt and pain in her eyes. Two steps back took him out of the room, and Franklin murmured an apology as he pulled the door shut behind them.
The walls were soundproof. Either that, or the three wolves on the other side were staring at each other in silence. Whatever the case, Franklin didn’t give Derek a chance to brood on it. He nodded toward a door on the other side of the hallway. “There’s a couch in there and a minifridge with some drinks. Make yourselves comfortable. This could take awhile.”
Luciano walked into the office, pausing only briefly before bending down to inspect the contents of the small refrigerator. “Want a beer?”
“God, yes.” The office door whispered shut with a soft click as Derek sank to the couch. “Was I not supposed to open my mouth in front of the Alpha?”
“Don’t take it personally.” Luciano tossed him a can and popped the top on one of his own. “I’m not allowed to speak, either.”
“Jesus.” For the first time, Derek forced himself consider the kind of life Luciano had obviously led. Derek might have lost his parents, but he’d been an adult with a couple decades of parental adoration and approval behind him. He’d never had to wonder if his family might turn on him for political gain.
A few days ago sympathy for Luciano would have seemed impossible, but there was no mistaking the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looked at Luciano and saw the man’s tense expression ease into wry amusement. “Don’t feel bad for me over something stupid like that. You want to pity me? Do it because I have even less of a chance than you do of ever being with the woman I love.”
Derek had almost forgotten the entire reason Nick trusted Luciano. “Has Michelle’s life always been this…” He groped for the right word. “Complicated?”
Luciano stared down into his beer. “Michelle’s got it pretty good. They’ve kept Seers in cages before, or under heavy sedation. Killed a lot of them if they seemed particularly unstable.”
The words were bleak. Tired. Derek had known the reality of Michelle’s life intellectually from the moment she’d shown up at Nick’s bar, but there hadn’t been time to understand. The most primal part of him felt the strange, terrifying power every time she entered a room. She was different, unnatural on a level it shamed him to consider. But if even he felt it…
Luciano’s silent hopelessness was more telling than a thousand passionate words. With nothing filling the tense quiet of the office, Derek finally faced the one truth he’d been fighting all along. “They’re not going to let her and Aaron go, are they? Nothing Nick can say or do will make that happen.”
“Let them go where?” Luciano ran a rough hand through his hair, leaving it hanging over his forehead in disarray. “There’s nowhere for someone like Michelle to go.”
Instinct told him Luciano was telling the truth—or thought he was. Which left only one question. “Then what is Nick trying to do?”
“She’s trying to make sure Michelle doesn’t end up dead or in a cage. If they—” He sat next to Derek. “If the Conclave agrees, someone can be responsible for her. Sort of like a—a keeper.”
Derek had to set his beer can aside to keep from crushing it as the wolf howled in warning. There was danger here, but not the sort he’d expected. “So, a keeper. Someone like Nick?”
“Someone like Nick.”
It seemed too easy, which meant it wasn’t. It wouldn’t be as simple as packing Michelle up and moving her into Nick’s spare bedroom. If he’d learned anything over the past two years, it was to view the actions of the shapeshifter aristocracy through the lens of antiquated prejudice and misogyny.
It didn’t take a scholar of history to recognize the obvious answer, not with Luciano and everything he represented sitting right in front of him. “Someone like Nick and a well-trained husband who does every damn thing they say.” Anger infused his words, and he let it. Anger was better than fear.
Luciano stared down at his own hands. “You’re not slow. That’s good.”