Invisible Recruit: Invisible Power Part 18

But I held my tongue, waiting till the Were scooted out the door, leaving his sandwich behind. That showed how wary he was.

And he should be. Bran had a lot to answer for.

But as I turned my full focus on him I noticed what I'd missed before. He looked drained, the kind of weight-of-the-world-on-your-shoulders spent, with strain bracketing his killer-blue eyes.

This was not the Bran I knew. The take the world on and then some, king of his universe, mover and shaker. This was a man fighting on one too many fronts and bracing himself.

What had he been doing? Where had he gone?

Even his tone sounded different, less in-your-face and more give-it-your-best shot as he picked at the sandwich before looking me in the eye. "Well, Alex, I'm here now. You want a piece of me? Take it."

CHAPTER 37.

Jeb lifted the cool washcloth to his head while sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Philippe's black and white tiled bathroom. His cuts had mostly healed now, one of the boons of being a shifter, but the gash along his head had bled for a good long while.

"Feeling better?" Pdraig said from the doorway.

Jeb nodded though he wanted to growl, what do you think? His son had attacked him. Van, his firstborn, lunged at Jeb as if his father was a pesky coyote needing to be taken down.

And Van had d.a.m.n near done just that. Jeb couldn't seriously fight back, not without harming his boy.

He'd seen the crazed, vacant look in Van's eyes. If he didn't know his son, his scent, the markings of his wolf, Jeb would have said that hadn't been Van. But it was. While at the same time it wasn't.

Raising his head to eye Pdraig who'd dragged Jeb's wolf form away after one of the a.s.sailants had tasered him, he knew he owed the young man. "Thank you. For what you did back there."

The Irishman ran a hand through his ruffled hair. "It was close. Another few minutes and the feukeu would have collected you before I could."

"Feukeu?"

Pdraig cantered one shoulder. "Police."

Jeb nodded then wished he hadn't. His head felt like it had in his old rodeo days, after he'd been tossed from a bronc and landed hard.

"Do you know why your son was there?" Pdraig asked.

"No idea."

Jeb hadn't mentioned that Alex had been there, too, but he was going to find out why. He knew who the man was who tackled her. Bran, the dress designer and the man who was supposed to have been brought before the Council less than an hour ago for suspected involvement in a scheme to drug preternaturals against their will. But the meeting had been put off now.

The charges against this Bran were serious, with two of the Council members already agitating for a death penalty based on the man's cousin's involvement in using a similar drug against humans. If the Council had a full body, and hadn't been dealing with the ramifications of a reported shifter attack against humans in broad daylight, the designer might not have been given another forty-eight hours to prove he was not involved in the drug issue.

None of the Council members knew Jeb and Pdraig had been present at the park. Not yet at least. Nor did they know that the shifter who had broken the basic tenet of the last three hundred years; don't show, don't tell and never, under any reason, reveal yourself to a human had been Jeb's son.

The last time the Council had a.s.sembled in a full quorum, and even with Philippe's calm guidance, the chamber had been crowded with several Weres agitating for representation on the Council. They'd always been angry that shifters were represented with a Council seat but not Weres.

Jeb had been willing to listen to their complaints, which held some legitimacy. Wei Pei, the shifter who stood for both shifters and Were interests was older, the oldest of the members now that Philippe was gone. And the Chinese man was sometimes lax in his enforcement of balance among his const.i.tuents. He tended to favor shifter needs over Were needs, but not enough to bring the other Council members into the agitation between the two species. Until now. Especially with this shifter exposure.

Now finding out why Van had acted as he did took precedence. The Weres held long grudges, and short of abdication of Wei, or allowing a pure-bred Were on the board, they would never be appeased by the elimination of one shifter as a punishment. The Weres could easily feel the shifters deserved to be removed from the board and Weres allowed species representation. As if that would solve what was behind Van's actions.

And even then Jeb knew the Weres would find something else to be unhappy about.

The truth was they really were angry at the whole Council for not giving them what they really wanted-freedom to reveal themselves to the humans-as a more superior and dangerous race.

But that wasn't going to happen. Not and risk all the other preternatural beings.

Pdraig cleared his throat as if searching for the right words. "If the Council finds that your son was the shifter responsible for the incident today, then you'll have to excuse yourself from trying his case."

Jeb glanced up at the Irishman, wondering if Pdraig was being obtuse or politically sensitive. "If that knowledge is revealed, the Council itself will be destabilized with Philippe being gone, Wei Pei's position compromised as having failed his species, both of them- "

"Why both?"

"The Weres currently feel underrepresented. If they receive what they want, which is a solid position on the Council, replacing or in addition to the shifter's position, then the shifters will feel that the Council and Wei Pei in particular used the actions of one shifter to discredit the whole race."

Paraig nodded as Jeb continued. "If the Weres are given a seat over the shifters, there will be even more open animosity."

"And Wei Pei cannot be removed unless he dies."

"Correct. Discrediting Wei Pei publically by having him abdicate his position will mean he, and thus the shifters will lose credibility."

"Which will anger the shifters."

"And if Philippe's seat is given to a Were, meaning both Weres and shifters are represented, then the other beings, including druids who would lose their seat, will be up in arms."

"Right ol' mess isn't it," Pdraig stroked his chin as if finally seeing the whole picture. "So what do we do?"

Jeb stood up, feeling the morning's change into shifter form and back, in the stiffness of his muscles now. "We have forty-eight hours to find a way to downplay the event in the park to the human population."

"You mean the whole "It was a rabid dog" story?"

Jeb nodded. "For the time being, yes. We need to discover why Van shifted in the first place, who those individuals with him were, and why Van didn't stop his attack the moment he discovered I was there."

"You think he knew you?" Pdraig's tone was diffident.

"Of course he did." That's the part that had Jeb worried the most. That and Alex's involvement.

"What if there's another incident?" Pdraig asked eying Jeb.

"We have to make sure there isn't one."

"Because even humans are not likely to believe there are two rabid dogs the size of overgrown wolves running through the streets of Paris."

"Exactly. One attack we can contain. Two attacks and . . ." Jeb couldn't even voice the next words. Two attacks and the Council, and thus all preternaturals, could be at risk.

Pdraig resumed stroking his chin. "And the warlock?"

Jeb caught himself. He'd forgotten, somewhat about the warlock. But not totally. "Leave him to me."

CHAPTER 38.

Van came to slowly, as if kicking and crawling up a very deep well. Struggling to orient himself. What day was it? Where was he? Why did he feel as if he'd been pummeled for hours? All of these questions slid away as awareness slammed into him with the sound of a familiar voice.

The power broker screaming, "The experiment failed and I want heads."

"Sir, I beg to disagree." Jean-Claude, the doctor's voice, rumbled somewhere to Van's right. "The drug was effective, as were the autosuggestions."

"He was to have done far more. Only one dead. And his sister still out of our reach. I'd say that was a failure."

The words dripped like vinegar in an open wound, one painful splash at a time. Who was dead? What had happened? And what about Alex?Van lifted his head that felt like it weighed more than his whole body and bit back a groan when he recognized where he was. Back in the cell. Still shackled against the stone wall, only with heavier chain now, more silver. But why? What had happened?

"He's coming around," Jean-Claude murmured. "Bonne." The doctor stepped closer, examining Van as if looking for something. "How do you feel Mister Noziak? Any after effects?"

Van said nothing until the Were stepped close enough and Van lunged. There was no way he could have reached the Were but it d.a.m.n well felt good to have the other jumping back.

"He's obviously fine," the power broker snarled. "We need him ready for another trial. A bigger one this time. So there will be no doubt that shifters are unpredictable, dangerous creatures."

The doctor glanced toward where the power broker stood, out of Van's line of sight. "But that may kill him," he stuttered.

"Not my problem," the other said, and Van could hear the smug smile in his voice. "He'll have served his purpose."

The doctor made a noise, as if he wanted to say something else but hesitated.

"In the meantime . . ." the power broker said, "someone must pay for the mistakes of this afternoon."

Van could smell the doctor's terror as the Were asked, "But who?"

"Kill the human. He's expendable, too."

CHAPTER 39.

"Well Alex," Bran repeated, crossing the warehouse to stand before where I still perched on my stool. "Nothing to say?"

It wasn't that there was nothing I had to say, I had plenty to say, but no way was I going to kick a man when he wasn't in full fighting form. Instead I tilted my head and looked at him, wondering what caused the change from the man I'd seen this morning. Before the whole park crisis. "What's happened?" I asked, then remembered. "The Council?"

"I've received a twenty-four hour stay of execution." His tone meant to be mocking but actually only sounding weary.

"Don't be a fool. They can't execute you without a reason."

He eyed me, then added in a voice less hostile than it had been. "Seems they think I may be the one who set the shifter off on a killing spree this afternoon."

That threw me for a loop. No way. He wouldn't even have been at the park if I hadn't been going there. And that shifter was my brother. I knew Van wasn't on a killing spree. Someone may have died but after seeing what those people were doing to him I had no doubt the death was a result of their actions. It wasn't like Van woke up as a kidnap victim and decided to lope over to the park to kill some innocent bystanders. "Why is the Council thinking that you had anything to do with Van?"

"They don't have all the details yet, so I have a limited amount of time to prove I had nothing to do with Van's actions."

"Do they know Van was the shifter?"

"Not as far as I can tell."

"And my father?"

"No one seems to have tied your father and your brother together as being in the park fighting one another." He ran one hand through his hair, rocking back on his heels. "There's been no report of your father's death."

I held my breath as I spoke one of my fears aloud. "But someone could have taken his body and disposed of it."

"They could have, but I stopped at the park before I returned here and did a quick casting spell. Except for the one Were who died today, there was no indication of any other deaths there recently."

"So dad may be alive?"

He nodded and I felt my heart stutter and restart. One fear allayed, only to be b.u.mped aside from so many other issues crowding me. Why had Van shifted in the middle of a public place? Who were the people holding him? Why had Van and my father fought? Why were there Weres present? And if Willie was to be believed, why such powerful Weres?

Weres were like shifters in that regard; unless there were ties of blood that could impact relationships, they tended to have the strongest dominant as their leader and a group of lesser dominants beneath their hierarchy. If the dominant became weak or incapacitated he was often killed and replaced. Two Were brothers who were dominants were separated to different packs so that they didn't eventually want to kill one another. Shifters did not have to live in packs so often avoided the chance of brother killing brother, though they still respected and followed the strongest dominant around.

Having several dominant Weres in one location at one time usually resulted in bloodshed unless they were in a rigidly controlled environment, such as a Council session or a gathering of the packs. Several dominant shifters could work together without tearing each other's throats out, which is why my family was still intact. My dad and brothers were all dominants, except for Jackson, and he could be dominant, but chose to be Beta in our family structure.

Bran slid onto one of the stools next to me, a silent acknowledgement that if I wasn't going to be his immediate enemy there could be a cessation, even temporarily, of animosity between us. Sort of the ways shifters and Weres communicated. If feeling threated they face one another, the better to register body language attack signals. If friends, they stand side by side, a much less threatening posture, and for them, an easier way to communicate. Just the opposite for women who preferred facing the one they were talking with. But I'd learned growing up with only brothers and a father, that if I really wanted them to listen to me I had to talk to them their way, not mine.

I glanced over at Bran, hesitating to ask him what was pushing at me the most. "Why was Van in his wolf form and attacking?"

He didn't look directly at me as he answered, another male trait. "My best guess is Vaverek."

"What's he got to do with any of this?"

"I don't have the details but if your brother was acting totally out of character- "

"He was."

"Then there has to be a reason."

I saw where he was going with this. "You mean the drug that's supposed to influence preternaturals?"

"Clearly this is similar to the drug that Dominique was involved with, but different. That difference being it could make a shifter, or a Were, or any other preternatural act in spite of their training and basic desires, human or animal."