“This council has sole discretion to decide what’s to be done with us?” Luke didn’t appreciate having his fate or Cynthia’s in the hands of others, especially a different species from his own.
“That makes it sound like some kind of kangaroo court,” Giselle said. “It’s not. It’s a reasonable group. And, as Cynthia said, I’m on it.”
“That could make a difference. I hope. Unless you’re going to be in trouble for revealing the secret to me, and, by accident, to Cynthia.” He gazed at her. “I’ll say it was all my fault. I hounded you until you told me.”
“No, no.” Mr. Thatcher waved both hands. “Don’t do that. If anyone needs to be the sacrificial lamb, I’ll volunteer. I knew the two of you were falling in love, and I didn’t do anything to stop it. In fact, once I realized that Giselle might consider changing her views, I encouraged it.”
Luke gazed at him. “What views?”
“We can talk about that later.” Giselle clearly wanted to change the subject.
He decided to let her do that, but he’d get back to it sometime later. He wanted to know her views and how he fit into them, or how he didn’t.
“Nobody’s to blame for this except me,” Giselle said. “I’m the one who chose to reveal the secret. Bryce encouraged me, but I’m the one who—”
“What’s that?” Bryce walked into the room. “Are you trying to pin this rap on me, little sister?”
“Never.” Giselle slipped her hand from Luke’s and stood. “I’m glad you urged me to tell Luke. He deserved to know.”
“I’m grateful.” Luke stood and walked over to shake Bryce’s hand. “This is a lot to take in, but far better for me to be on information overload than to have no information at all. And no Giselle.”
Bryce nodded, his gaze understanding. “Obviously I agree with that. I didn’t expect Cynthia to be a part of all this, but maybe that’s a good thing. She’s on the inside with you now, instead of on the outside. Given how close you two are, I think in the long run this will make things easier.”
“Hm.” Luke regarded Bryce with new respect. “Good thought. I hadn’t considered that.”
“I told Cynthia the council will probably require that she and her brother sign a nondisclosure agreement,” Bryce continued, “and there could be—”
“You’ve been discussing this with her?” Luke heard his tone of voice. Way to have a knee-jerk reaction. He backpedaled immediately. “I mean, good. I’m glad you talked to her about it.”
“Actually, I’ve been discussing it with him.” Cynthia came up behind Bryce and peeked over his shoulder. “I wasn’t born yesterday, big brother. I realize we’re now in the category of those who know too much, so I asked Bryce how werewolves handle a case like ours. I don’t relish getting eliminated. Do you?”
“Uh, no, I don’t.” He reminded himself that Cynthia’s brain was always working, so naturally she’d figured out the possible consequences of this caper, too. Maybe someday, twenty years from now, he’d shed the last of his protective behavior. Then again, maybe not.
“The way I look at it,” Bryce said, “Mr. Thatcher can vouch for you and Cynthia, and Benedict can add in his two cents, since he’s known both of you for a long time, too. The council could impose some monitoring for a year or so, but that might be it.”
“Might?” Luke frowned. “I don’t like these vague terms. Give it to me straight. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Bryce eyed him. “You mean if they decided you pose a definite security risk?”
“Exactly. Let’s say they don’t trust me, or Cynthia for that matter, despite what you all say. What would they do? Kill us?”
Bryce sighed. “No, you have to get that out of your head. We don’t kill. But we might need to contain you.”
“Aha! I knew it. You’d have to catch me, first, though. And my little sister can run like a bat out of hell.”
“Oh, we would catch you. But don’t worry. It’s not like we have a prison with a dungeon or anything. It’s more like staying at the most luxurious resort in the world.”
“As if that makes it better,” Luke muttered.
“But it won’t happen!” Cynthia said. “We have three great character references. If you’ll just let me do the talking, we’ll be fine.”
From the corner of his eye, Luke saw Giselle cover her mouth as if hiding a smile. Okay, so his little sister was cute and sassy while he was the gloom-and-doom guy in the bunch. But despite all the insights he’d gained recently, he couldn’t turn off that basic urge to keep Cynthia safe. That had been imprinted on him when he was ten, and it wasn’t changing. At this point, he wasn’t entirely convinced that he could keep her safe, and worry churned in his gut.
“I think we’ve beat that subject to death,” Bryce said. “How about a tour of the werewolf playground? That should cheer everybody up!”
Luke doubted it would make him any more cheerful, but he was curious. “Let’s do it.” He gestured for Giselle to go ahead of him.
She leaned toward him as she walked by. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”
“Hope so.” He believed she’d do everything in her power to make it so, but she couldn’t possibly have complete control over what would happen.
As he started to follow her, Mr. Thatcher touched his arm.
He turned around, and the butler motioned him closer. “There is that perfect solution, the one Cynthia mentioned,” he murmured.
“I’ve been thinking about that.” They wouldn’t marry. They would mate. The term had a primitive ring to it that both excited and alarmed him.
“I urge you to think about it.”
“It’s tough to get my mind around it, Mr. Thatcher. It’s a radical concept. And most of all, I . . . I don’t know if she would want that.” Or if I do. He might have been thinking about it before, but now that he knew she was a different species, he didn’t feel as if he knew her as well as he had imagined. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her, but knowing she was a werewolf gave him pause and made him want to know more before he made any decisions.
“Ask her.”
Chapter 27
Giselle was dying to know what Mr. Thatcher was saying to Luke. But instead of meandering and using her sharp hearing to eavesdrop, she walked briskly down the hallway to the locker room. Her footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, which helped to block out their conversation.
Luke and the butler had a long-standing relationship that had suffered a major shock. Discovering she was a werewolf had obviously been difficult for Luke to accept, but adjusting to Mr. Thatcher’s new identity could be even tougher. She had no right to intrude on their discussion.
When she walked through the door at the end of the hallway and entered the locker room designed for Weres to store their clothes, Luke and Mr. Thatcher were still in the bar. Benedict, Bryce, and Cynthia stood waiting for her at the opposite end of the locker room, at the entrance to the playground.
“We wondered if you’d ever get here,” Cynthia said. “Of course you’ve seen it before, but my brother hasn’t. I’d think he’d be dying of curiosity. Where is he?”
“He and Mr. Thatcher are having a talk.”
“Oh.” Cynthia glanced at Giselle. “Partly about you, I’ll bet.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You should have hung back to listen. I would’ve.”
“Hey!” Bryce pretended to be shocked. “Don’t forget I have to vouch for your sterling character, missy. Don’t be announcing to me that you’re a habitual eavesdropper.”