I looked at the three wolf shifters from the Clan Tenerim, all of them looking like very lost, very dangerous puppies. Oberis was the leader of my Court; who the hell else was I supposed to talk to when everything went to hell?
I hate politics. Then, I realized that Eric, if nothing else, could probably get ahold of Oberis! I dug his number out of my phone and called him.
“Eric, we have a situation,” I said quickly when the gnome answered his cellphone. “Tarvers Tenerim is dead. Gerard Winters killed him. I can’t get ahold of Lord Oberis. What do I do?” I asked plaintively. I was lost, completely out of my depth, and left hoping that the Keeper would have some idea how to help me.
“Fuck,” Eric said simply when I finished. He was silent for a moment. “Fuck,” he repeated. “Call Talus—I don’t care what Oberis is involved in; Talus will know and be able to interrupt. Here’s his number.”
I quickly scribbled the fae noble’s number down.
“Thank you, Eric,” I told the Keeper. “I had no idea who else to turn to.”
“Call Talus,” he repeated. “Powers keep you safe.”
I did. After a couple of rings, Talus answered.
“Who is this?” he demanded.
“It’s Kilkenny,” I told him. “Eric gave me your number; we have an emergency.”
“Okay,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“The Tenerim Alpha is dead; I need to speak to your uncle,” I explained.
“Shit.” Silence on the other end of the line. “He’s in a teleconference with five other Lords.” A moment of more silence. “Stay on the line,” Talus instructed.
I heard Laurie’s voice in the background. “You can’t go in there!”
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” Talus said, his voice suddenly flat, cold, and angry—a tone of utter command I hoped no noble ever had cause to use on me. I heard a door open.
“Uncle, Kilkenny is on the line,” the noble told Oberis. “It’s an emergency.”
“Gentlemen, excuse me a moment,” I heard Oberis say, and then soft footsteps before the fae lord spoke into the phone.
“I just put off five of the most powerful fae on this continent for you,” he said simply. There was no menace in his voice. It would have been redundant. “What is it?”
“Tarvers Tenerim is dead, murdered by Enforcer Gerard Winters,” I told him in a rush, relieved to have finally reached him. “Laurie told me you were unavailable, so I called Talus—I’m sitting here with a dead Alpha and three shifters about to go critical.”
“I see.” His voice was flat. “Laurie, we will discuss this,” he said, away from the phone but I heard the words clearly. “Talus, make my apologies to the Lords. Now, Jason, where are you?”
I told him, and he hung up without responding. Moments later, before I could even start panicking at being hung up on again, air twisted, and Lord Oberis stepped out of Between to face the vehicle full of shifters. With a wordless gesture, he called me to his side. With a sigh, I obeyed, walking slightly behind him as he approached Tarvers’s vehicle.
Barry and the other two shifters stood outside it, ignoring the cold as they faced the fae lord sullenly, angrily. Oberis returned their gazes levelly.
“Show him to me,” he asked them, his voice gentle. Barry nodded and led the fae lord to the back of the vehicle, opening it up to reveal Tarvers’s body.
“Winters had a bane sword,” the wolf shifter said quietly, his voice choked. “But he was so fast, so strong—I would never have thought a human would last a second against an Alpha.”
“Winters is no longer human,” the leader of Calgary’s fae told the shifter quietly. “He is much changed by the Wizard’s runes, more a construct of magic now than a man.”
“Twisted and evil,” I muttered. I’m sure everyone there heard me, but no one commented. I’m not sure anyone disagreed.
“What happened?” Oberis asked.
“We followed a lead on the lifesblood we found on a vampire,” Barry explained slowly. “It led to this print shop, so we started questioning the guy running the joint. He freaked when we asked about it, and tried to have a security guard evict us.
“After that, we started asking questions forcefully and Jason showed up and was being helpful,” the wolf shifter continued, “until the Enforcers showed up.
“Winters told us we had no jurisdiction, that the man was under the Enforcers’ protection, and that they would ‘investigate our allegations.’ He and Tarvers argued, then fought. He killed Tarvers.”
“It wasn’t even a fair fight,” I said quietly. “I never thought I’d see Tarvers that outmatched.”
“Thank you,” Oberis told us all. “This is not acceptable, but I am not sure what to do about it yet.” He sighed. “Take Tarvers home; I’m sure Clan Tenerim has affairs they must deal with. You did the right thing by waiting for me—I and I alone can take this to the Wizard until a successor as Speaker for the Clans is selected.”
The shifters drifted into the car and drove off, looking like they were in a daze, and Oberis looked at me.
“You have a knack for trouble,” he told me.
“I came here trying to avoid this shit,” I complained, aware that this was not the time to whine but unable to help myself.
“And the Queen has bound you to try and find it,” the fae lord reminded me. “There are too many pieces in play; I am not sure I understand what is happening. I need time to assess.”
“What will happen next?” I asked.
“We will mourn Dave and Elena,” he said quietly. “By Monday, I should know. Until then...we honor our dead.
“We all have our jobs to do,” Oberis continued. “Deciding what to do about this is mine, not yours.”
“Jobs,” I said slowly. “Shit. I’m going to be so late back to dispatch.”
I WAS. I spun a tale to Trysta about a restaurant I’d stopped for lunch where the service had been atrocious and they’d kept me waiting for my bill, and she’d laughed sympathetically and helped me load up my afternoon load.
I finally returned the truck to the parking lot over an hour late, with the office already deserted. With a sigh, I offloaded the next day’s delivery parcels myself before locking everything up and starting the walk home in the cold.
Moments after leaving the office, my cell phone started to ring.
“Hello,” I answered wearily.
“It’s Mary,” she said quietly, her voice choked. “I just found out about Tarvers. You were there?!”
“I was,” I said, feeling the ache of weariness, a good chunk of grief, and a huge amount of guilt settling into my bones. “I saw it all.”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Terrified,” I admitted. “I have the feeling that things are starting to fall apart around us.”
She was silent on the phone for a long time.
“Me too,” she finally said. “Tarvers was a father to all of us. I’m scared.”
“Can I see you?” I asked after a long moment, realizing what both of us wanted and neither of us wanted to seem weak by asking.
“I don’t think I should leave the Den,” she told me. “But you can come here. I’ll make sure you get in. Things are...hectic here right now.”
“I’ll grab a cab; I should be there in twenty minutes or so,” I promised. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too,” she told me.
I hung up and called the cab company.
THE TENERIM DEN was a townhouse complex of what had originally been twelve separate homes. At some point, they had all been bought out by the Clan, and the renovations had begun.