I opened the door a second time and said, "Better?"
Cherry nodded, smiling. "Much better. Thank you for listening to me. I know it's not one of your best things."
"I am not going to drag Richard's pack into a war because I couldn't tone it down a little."
The smile widened into something gentle and almost heart-warming. "You are a good lupa, Anita, a good Nimir-ra. For a human, you're positively excellent."
"Yeah, but the human part is still true."
She touched my shoulder. "But we don't hold it against you."
I looked at her to see if she was kidding me, but I just couldn't tell. "I think Roxanne will hold it against me."
Cherry nodded. "Probably. They're all waiting in the kitchen."
The kitchen was tiled in black and white with some cracks starting in the high-traffic areas, but the floor was mopped within an inch of its existence. The tile gleamed softly in the indirect light that touched the windows. Like the bedroom Nathaniel was staying in, it would get morning light but not afternoon. Roxanne sat with her back to the door. The edges of the white tablecloth trailed in her lap. There was a stiffness to the way she held herself that said she knew I was there, but she didn't turn around.
Marianne sat across from her with a china teacup and saucer in front of her. She looked at me like she was trying to tell me something with her eyes, but I didn't know what that something was.
Roland stood in the corner next to a hutch that held the china that matched the cup. He had his arms crossed and looked very bodyguardish.
The other man I'd glimpsed stood in the opposite corner like a second bookend. His arms were crossed, and he looked very bodyguardish.
That was the only thing that was similar. Okay, one other: They both had great tans. But I suspected, like Richard, that the new guy wasn't just tanned. His skin was a rich brown, his brown eyes almost perfectly almond shaped. They were almost too small for the rest of that face. It was all angles, high cheekbones, broad forehead, hooked nose. Every feature he had was aggressively male and ethnic. His hair was long and black and moved like silky water as he looked at me. The hair was a solid blackness like my own, that black that has blue highlights in the sun.
He was also at least six foot two, maybe an inch taller, with shoulders to match. He leaned against the wall, exuding a sort of easy physical energy like someone who knew his potential and didn't sweat proving it.
"That's Ben. He's your replacement Sköll until Jamil is healed."
I wanted to turn down the offer of putting my life in a stranger's hands, but was almost sure it would be considered an insult. I nodded. "Hi."
He nodded back. "Hello."
Roxanne turned in the chair, sliding her legs so she was sitting sideways in the chair. "Verne meant our wolf to be an apology for allowing your people to be injured on our lands." She looked full at me and those brown eyes were not friendly. "I think it is you who owes us an apology."
"Apology for what?" I asked.
She stood, and that energy spilled through the room like water, swirling around the ankles, rising to the knees. Her power spilled outward, upward, as if she would fill the room with the breathing warmth of her presence.
She was so powerful, it made my throat tight just standing this close to her. "Shit," I whispered.
"You marked Verne as if he were the least of us and not the greatest."
"You mean the neck thing," I said.
She slammed the chair back into the floor. It fell with a loud crash.
I didn't go for a gun, but it was an effort.
Roxanne stood there breathing far too fast and far too shallow. Strong emotion makes the energy spill worse, and her anger made the power bite and dance over my skin in a tight, electric dance.
Cherry moved up a little behind me. Zane appeared in the doorway and flanked her. They stood to either side and a little back like bodyguards. They'd do their best, but I didn't want to test them against Roland and Ben. I was pretty sure who would win, and it wouldn't be us.
"I am sorry that I marked Verne," I said.
"Lies," Roxanne said.
"I truly didn't mean to do it."
She took a trembling step forward. I didn't step back, but maybe I should have. She was too damn close. At this range, I might get the Browning out, but if I did, I'd have to use it, because she'd be on top of me in seconds.
"Can someone please explain why she's so pissed, and what we can do about it that won't end with one of us dead?"
Marianne stood slowly. Roxanne's head pivoted, and the intensity in that gaze, even turned to another, made my skin jump. Marianne held her hands palm out and advanced slowly around the table towards her lupa.
"Roxanne sees the marking as an insult to Verne and the entire pack," Marianne said.
"I got that," I said. "I didn't mean it to be insulting. I didn't mean to do it at all."
Roxanne's head turned slowly until she was staring at me. Her eyes bled from brown to a rich, startling yellow while I watched.
I put my hand on the butt of the Browning. "Ease down, wolf-girl."
A low, rumbling growl crawled out of that slender throat.
Marianne said, "If you truly didn't mean to be insulting, then would you be willing to make amends?"
I kept my gaze on Roxanne but answered, "How would I make amends?"
"We could fight," Roxanne said.
I looked into her nearly glowing yellow eyes. "I don't think so."
Marianne was standing sort of between us without actually standing between us. "You could offer your neck to Roxanne in a public ceremony."
My eyes slid to Marianne, then back to the werewolf. "I am not letting her near my neck in public or private, not on purpose."
"You don't trust me," Roxanne said.
"Nope."
She took another painfully slow step forward. Marianne did step between us then. If Roxanne moved forward another inch, her shoulder would bump Marianne.
"There is another ceremony," Marianne said.
"I am not offering Roxanne my neck," I said.
"No neck offering, but you do exchange blows."
I felt my eyes widen. I stared at the nearly snarling woman across from me. "You must be joking. She'd kill me."
"I'll let you hit me first," Roxanne said.
"I've read this story. No thanks."
Roxanne frowned. "Story?"
"Sir Gawain and the Green Knight," I said. She still looked puzzled. "The Green Knight lets Sir Gawain have the first blow. Gawain cuts off his head. The Green Knight picks up his head under one arm and says, 'My turn, a year from now!' "
"Haven't read it," she said.
"It's not top twenty reading list, I guess. Anyway, the point is the same. I can hit you as hard as I can, and it won't hurt you. You can flick your fingers in my direction and break my neck."
"Then we fight," she said.
My hand was still resting on the Browning. "I'll kill you, Roxanne, but I won't fight you."
"Coward!"
"You bet," I said.
I felt Richard brush over me, through me, like wind. He'd recognized Roxanne's car and was letting me know he was about to bring a human into the mess. A human who didn't know who the monsters were.
I looked away to see his shape outside the kitchen door, and I shouldn't have. I didn't so much see Roxanne's fist as sense the movement. My hand was already on the Browning, only seconds to pull it, but that blur of movement caught me in the chin. I had the sensation of falling, but I didn't remember hitting the floor or didn't feel it.