Shit. «It’s rude to snoop.»
«Yeah, about that. Number one, this is my apartment. Number two, you think pretty damn loud. It’s hard to ignore.»
«You are going to be a pain in my ass, kid.» Alec straightened and let his power off the leash. Barely, enough to give the boy a taste of real magic. «And that’s fine. But I’m not going to let you break your sister’s heart. She’s been through hell. Your father and uncle damn near got her killed. What is she going to do that’s so bad you won’t even see her?»
Remorse darkened Miguel’s eyes, though determination steeled them. «I could tell her I’m okay, and that I knew, one hundred percent, what I was getting myself into. But telling her that is only going to remind her that she can’t protect me, not the way she’s always wanted to. Things like that hurt her, worse than thinking I’m being an immature jackass who doesn’t want a lecture.»
They were both caught in a trap with no good way out. Nothing new, except for the pathological need growing inside him. The need to protect Carmen from the world, from pain, from everything. Even her own family.
It was a need he’d have to get a chokehold on — fast. «You can’t avoid her forever.»
«I’m not planning on it. Just…a little more time.»
«Fine. But I want you to do something for me.»
«What’s that?»
«See a spell caster I know. Couple times a month, make sure nothing unusual’s going on. For your sake and your sister’s.»
He wanted to say no, that much was clear. But when he finally answered, he said, «Sure. I could use a new poker buddy.»
Alec released the breath he’d been holding. «Thanks.»
«You’re welcome.» He set his empty bottle on the coffee table. «Julio said Carmen’s fine. Is she?»
«Yeah. She’s fine, and she’s going to stay fine.» Might as well get one thing out there. «No matter what your father and uncle try next. I’m not in the habit of asking people to pick sides against their own family, but you’re in a hell of a spot right now. If things get worse…»
«I’m with Carmen,» Miguel said, not a shade of doubt coloring his voice. «Julio and I both, we’re with her.»
«Good.» Alec straightened, then hesitated. «If you’ve got questions or problems with the wolf shit — and you don’t feel like asking your brother — Kat has my number.»
«Thanks, but I’ll make it.»
Maybe. There was one more thing the kid deserved to know. «Watch your step with Kat. I’m the least of your worries if you hurt her.»
«Andrew Callaghan. She told me.»
Kat had her own skewed perspective of Andrew’s supposed indifference to her, one she seemed stubbornly unwilling to relinquish. «Kat’s smart and empathic, but she doesn’t get instinct, not really. Try to remember that.»
Miguel nodded. «I’m keeping it in mind.»
«All I can ask.» Of Miguel, anyway. Alec made it out the door and into the parking lot before he allowed himself a frustrated growl. Kat had a lot of talking to do.
Carmen faced Franklin across a cup of coffee and the mounds of paperwork on his desk. «I’ll even do administrative tasks if you let me come back. I’m going to go nuts at home.»
«You want to do paperwork?» Franklin smiled at her, though the tension in the room didn’t dissipate. «Did Mahalia hex you?»
She had to tread carefully. «Is there a reason I shouldn’t be here right now? More trouble with my uncle?»
Franklin’s shallow smile vanished. «He took advantage of Alec’s absence to make his presence felt. He’s not happy that I won’t tell him who pays the bills, and we’ve escalated from threats to legal attacks.»
«Damn it. What the hell is he trying to accomplish?»
«Beats me. Maybe it’s about the money, or maybe it’s about putting me in my place. Wolves don’t tend to think much of the rest of us shifters.»
«Will John Peyton intercede if he knows Cesar is harassing you for no reason?»
«John Peyton doesn’t have that luxury. He’s taken all the chances he can afford, right now. Going against one of the old wolf families on behalf of a coyote? He can’t do a damn thing unless Cesar crosses a line that puts the rest of the wolves in danger.»
Carmen hated the feeling of helplessness that assailed her. Franklin — and by extension the clinic — had no ready recourse. «I’ll fix it.»
Franklin shook his head. «It’s bigger than you. And it’s not the first time something like this has happened. The old leader of the Southeast council used to mouth half-hearted threats once a month or so. They can smell the money.» He sat back and tilted his head, regarding Carmen thoughtfully. «You’ve seen the equipment we have. Haven’t you ever wondered?»
«Of course I have. But I figured you’re a stand-up guy with decent funding and a good head for money management.»
«Not quite.» He checked his watch. «Do you want to know?»
As far as she knew, no one at the clinic but Franklin himself was privy to that information. «Only if you want to tell me.»
«You’re the closest thing I have to a second-in-command, Mendoza. I’ve been thinking about making it official for a while. Your relatives aren’t going to change that.»
«Even if they’re causing serious problems for the clinic?»
«Rule number one of the supernatural community in this town? We don’t hold each other’s families against one another.»
«That seems fair.» Carmen held out both hands. «Lay it on me. What is it, the Conclave making secret donations? A cabal of wizards?»
Franklin shook his head. «Sit here another five minutes and you’ll get to meet our benefactor.»
Surely he didn’t mean that the way it sounded. «You say that as if there’s only one.»
«Mysterious, isn’t it?»
He was enjoying himself. «Franklin…»
But Franklin didn’t budge, instead engaging her with small talk about what had gone on in her absence, until a rattling knock set his door dancing on its hinges.
He raised his voice. «Come on in, Wesley.»
The man who walked in had been in a recent altercation. Contusions and scratches marred his face, along with a nice-sized laceration over his right eyebrow. His leather jacket was worn and had a very distinct grass stain on the shoulder.
Carmen forgot about Franklin’s words as she rose and stepped away from her chair. «Jesus, are you all right?»
«I’m fine, I’m fine.» The newcomer waved her off and peered at Franklin. «Finally, I get to meet her.»
«And you’re making a great first impression.» Franklin sighed heavily and leaned forward. «Who was it this time? You weren’t in the casino again, were you?»
Wesley snorted, then winced and prodded at his swollen lip. «Casinos won’t let me back in. Could head up to Biloxi or something, but I don’t like to drive.»
«Might as well sit back down, Carmen.» Franklin waved a hand. «Meet Wesley Dade. Our illustrious benefactor, and a degenerate gambler.»
«Not really gambling if you know what’s coming,» Wesley said, his voice light and careless. He managed a half-smile for Carmen, even with his growing bruises, and sank into the chair beside her. «Nice to meet you. Officially, I mean.»
«You too.» She tried to make sense of his words, and the situation. «You’re a precognitive psychic?»
Wesley tapped his temple. «I knew you’d be a smartie. Too bad you’re not going to have time to help Franklin run this place.»
The words would have frightened her, except that he didn’t seem to deliver them with any sense of foreboding. «I just got the job, and you’re telling me I can’t do it?»
Wesley hummed cryptically.
«Ignore him,» Franklin advised. «Sometimes I think he says that shit to stir us all up. If Wesley does know something, he’s not going to spill unless it looks like the apocalypse is nigh.»
The psychic’s smile grew. «Happens more than you’d think around here.»
She believed it. «You fund the clinic? By gambling and subsequently getting the crap beaten out of you?»
He touched his bruised cheek. «People don’t like it when you win all the time. But no, back-alley poker games don’t pay the bills. The stock market does.»
«Wesley’s a little superstitious,» Franklin said, dry amusement lacing every word. «He can’t seem to stop testing his luck, but he’s convinced God will strike him down if he uses the money on himself.»
As a basic personal philosophy went, it was similar to what Carmen’s mother had raised them to believe. «My mom used to tell us the same thing about our abilities. That we’d be punished if we abused them.»
«Fire and brimstone and a big angry devil tormenting you all day long.» Wesley shrugged and gestured to his face. «Or a beat down because you tempted fate. Wherever our powers come from, someone doesn’t want us using them to get rich quick. Unfortunately, I have a compulsive personality.»
«So you make this place possible, and warn everyone when an apocalypse is on the way. That seems like a pretty big chunk of good karma.»
«It would have to be. I really like gambling.» Wesley slanted a look at Franklin. «I know when to hold ’em. And when to fold ’em. Even when to walk away.»
It sounded like a long-standing joke. Franklin certainly groaned like it was and rubbed at the side of his face. «And someday we’re going to teach you when to run. Carmen, take him to one of the exam rooms and fix his face up, would you?»
He’d need stitches, at the very least. «Beats paperwork. Follow me, Mr. Dade.» She led him down the hall, but hesitated at the exam room door. «Does Franklin give you a chart, or does he keep this stuff off the books?»
«There’s probably one floating around somewhere.» He gave her a half-grin that utterly failed to be rakish. «You sure you want to find out how many times I’ve been punched in the face this month?»
«Pretty sure I don’t, actually.» She ushered him in and gestured toward the exam table. «I think you know the drill.»
Wesley stripped off his jacket and settled in like an old pro. «This is nothing, really. You should see what happens to card counters if you cross the line in the wrong casino.»
«Broken fingers?»
«And then some. Too bad, because it’s an art. Not much skill in knowing the future, but card counters can guess it.»
«Isn’t it more about memory?» Carmen grabbed some gloves and gauze. «Remembering what’s been played and extrapolating the rest?»
«Remembering what’s been played, keeping the count, knowing the odds…» He raised one eyebrow at her. «If you stitch me up so pretty I don’t have a scar, that’s an art too. Not less of one just because you learned it like any other skill.»
It sounded like Wesley Dade was trying to impart a life lesson, not talk about repairing facial lacs. «I’m a big fan of knowledge earned and hard work.»
«Of course you are. Franklin respects that, and he respects you.»
Honesty, Carmen. «I’m also a big fan of directness. I’m even okay with people being on the blunt side.»
Wesley smiled and held out both hands. «Just talking about counting cards. I like to talk to distract myself when needles are about to become intimate with my face.»
Whatever he was trying to say, he wanted — no, he needed her to listen. So Carmen dabbed at his eyebrow and smiled. «All right. Not everyone can do it, right? Count? Calculate the odds on the fly?»
«No, they can’t. But even the best… If you do it by yourself, it’s easier to get caught. You have to play the table, you know, and for that you need partners. If they’re good, they can watch how you change your betting strategy and figure it out.»
«There’s another option, you know — don’t do it. Find another hobby. Take up watercolors or knitting. Parasailing.»
«Lady luck’s a fickle lover,» Wesley admitted, «but some of us can’t keep from crawling back to her time and again. Funny thing about this instance, though, is that lady luck favors you if you bring a friend. Or two. Spotters keep count, and the big player drops in to strike while the iron’s hot.» He sighed. «Too bad none of my friends are good at counting. Alec Jacobson offered to make buttons out of my teeth if I tried to lure his mathematically gifted secretary off to a life of adventure and mystery.»
Carmen bit her lip to hold back a laugh. «Except for that part about Kat, I have to say, Mr. Dade…I have no idea what you’re talking about.»
«That’s the point, Dr. Mendoza.» He smiled, just a little. «God’s busy. He can’t smite us for bending the rules. Someday, it’ll make sense.»
«Like when the iron’s hot.»
«Smart girl.»
She hummed as she opened a suture kit. If she were a little smarter, maybe she could figure out the gambling precog’s cryptic words, and whether they were a promise…or a warning.