“Deborah,” she whispered. Both wolves would hear her, but maybe a whisper was less threatening. “Do you have meat? Something defrosted. It needs to smell like meat.”
Deborah shook her head, staring at the wolves in her kitchen. “Some chicken. We were going to have chicken and dumplings for supper. I think . . . he didn’t hurt him. See? Ruben isn’t hurting the—the other wolf. He’s not as dangerous as you—”
The black wolf’s head shot forward. In an eye-blink he’d seized Scott’s foreleg in his jaws. Lily heard the crack of bone clearly in spite of Scott’s single, high yelp.
Deborah made a small, choked sound. Scott was utterly silent. Utterly still.
The black wolf moved slowly, turning to face them, head down, eyes intent.
“Okay,” Lily said, thinking fast. “I’m going to head for your refrigerator. He’ll track me because I’m moving. See if you can make it to the back door. Scott will do what he can.” Even three-legged, Scott could fight. Surely whatever mantle mojo Ruben had pulled wouldn’t hold Scott frozen if Ruben attacked one of them. It was the wrong mantle, wasn’t it? Scott was Leidolf, not Wythe. Ruben might be able to force Scott to submit, but he shouldn’t be able to truly control him.
She thought. She hoped. “He needs to eat. I’ll feed him. Scott, I know you heard me. Wag your tail or something to confirm.”
Scott’s tail twitched once.
“I will not.”
Lily looked at the stupid, stubborn woman beside her. “You will do this.”
“I’m not running away.”
Lily took a deep breath. “He broke Scott’s leg because he’s a threat. We aren’t. We’re food.”
“Then we’d better feed him something else. And fast.”
“Then—” Lily’s shoulders tensed as she sensed something. Thank God. Oh, thank God. They only had to hold Ruben off a little longer. “Better take a chair.”
“What?”
The black wolf settled back slightly on his haunches.
Lily shoved Deborah hard, reached behind her for the chair she’d backed up against—and swung it with all her strength. It connected squarely with the leaping wolf.
He fell, skidded, then staggered to his feet. Scott had gotten himself erect and once more placed himself between the other wolf and the women. “Rule!” Lily yelled. “Hurry!”
Something smashed at the front of the house. The black wolf shook his head once . . . and came in low. And fast, faster than he’d moved before. He was learning this form way too quickly. He knocked into Scott, shoving him aside. Lily held him off with the chair—but he seized one of the legs in his jaws and pulled.
The chair went flying.
Rule raced into the room—leaped—and Changed—and was wolf by the time he collided with the black wolf.
“It’s Ruben!” Lily called out. “I don’t know what he smells like, but it’s Ruben, only he’s a new wolf.”
The fight was brief. Ruben couldn’t use the mantle on Rule, couldn’t intimidate or slow him, and Rule knew this form. In moments, Rule had the black wolf by the neck. The other wolf sank to the floor. Rule released him and the wolf rolled onto his back, belly up. Rule moved to stand over him, opened his jaws, and seized Ruben by the muzzle.
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” Deborah whispered.
“It’s okay. He’s just saying it like he means it. Ruben has to mean it, too.”
For several heartbeats the two wolves didn’t move. Finally Ruben whined faintly.
Rule lifted his head and looked at Lily. As clearly as if he’d said it, she read the “What the hell?” in his eyes.
“I don’t know. I don’t know, but he’s the one the Lady picked.” She gestured at the black wolf, still lying submissively quiet. “When I got here . . . I’ll tell you later, but he’s got the mantle now.”
Rule’s gaze went to Deborah, who’d gripped Lily’s arm again and held on tight. Back to Lily. He growled once.
“Tough. If the Lady didn’t want Deborah to know about mantles, she shouldn’t have stuck one in her husband. Are you okay?”
He nodded once, looking at her intently. After a second she guessed what his question must be. “I’m fine. Actually . . .” She paused, lifted both arms. Flexed her biceps. “I’m all the way fine.” No pain. No weakness in her right arm. None. She twisted that arm to look. There was a scar still, but no dent. The muscle had grown back. “Jesus, that’s weird. Scott? You okay?”
The gray wolf nodded slowly. Not fine, maybe, but as okay as he could be with a broken leg.
Rule moved off the black wolf, who rolled so his belly wasn’t exposed but stayed down, watching Rule intently. Tentatively he stretched up his head so he could lick Rule’s muzzle : wolf-speak for You’re in charge. Let’s be friends. Rule allowed that for a moment, then licked him back once. The black wolf wriggled like a puppy.
Deborah was still breathing too fast. Still on the edge of panic. “I don’t know what’s going on. What happened to Ruben? What did you do? He’ll be himself again, won’t he?”
“Eventually. I think. I, ah . . .” Lily struggled for words to explain the inexplicable. “The CliffsNotes version is that I’ve been babysitting a mantle—that’s a magical construct that Rhos use to unite their clans, and you need to not tell anyone, anyone at all, about mantles, okay?”
“That will be easy. I don’t know anything to tell.”
“Details later. I had to babysit this mantle for a while because the Rho of that clan died without an heir. For some God-only-knows-what reason, today the Lady decided to put the mantle into Ruben. Somehow that triggered him into going into First Change. I don’t know how. It sure didn’t do that to me, and he’s not lupus either, so—”
Rule yipped.
“You mean he is? He smells lupus?”
He nodded.
Deborah looked more baffled than ever. “Is he—is Ruben okay now?”
Lily looked at Rule. “Is Ruben going to obey you? Because you need to clear out. I need to clear out. I came here because they’re going to arrest him. Did you get my message?”
Rule yipped again, glanced at Scott, and made a little circle in the air with his muzzle.
Lily frowned. “Why do you want Scott to Change instead of you doing it?”
Scott wasn’t as blindingly quick as Rule, but fast enough. In a few seconds he stood there, entirely naked, cradling his broken arm. “Where’s the chicken?”
“What?”
“The chicken. Rule needs to feed him.”
“The refrigerator,” Deborah said quickly and hurried to it. The black wolf shivered as if her movement excited or frightened him, but a glance from Rule kept him still. Deborah took out a package of chicken breasts. “Do I—”
“No, I do.” Scott snatched the package, ripped off the plastic, and advanced a couple steps before going to his knees and scrunching down, his head bent low, to set the foam tray on the floor. He shoved it toward the wolves.
He was underscoring Rule’s dominance, Lily realized. Baring his nape, submitting to Rule, showing the black wolf that all the other wolves in the room let Rule boss them around, too.
Rule stepped away from the black wolf, who started to rise—until Rule’s head swung around, teeth bared. He went flat again. Rule then inspected the offering in a leisurely way, sniffing it thoroughly. The black wolf quivered but didn’t move.
Rule-wolf selected one breast, crunched a couple times, then gulped it down. Then he used his nose to push the tray toward the other wolf—who looked at him as if asking permission. Rule stepped back. It’s all yours.
The black wolf was on his feet and devouring the chicken like he was on fast-forward.