Talia wasn’t sure how many that was, but it was a lot. “Orphans?”
Mina looked confused. Maybe she didn’t know the word.
“They have no mother or father,” Talia prompted.
“They have pack. They have what they need.”
They need a school.
She was spared by Lore’s return. “I’m heading over to Bevan’s place. I’ll make it quick.”
“What’s up?” Talia asked.
“Just a fire I have to put out. The Elders have decided they need their own meeting house. He has some suggestions, but I have to figure out how the pack is going to pay for renting a room in the community hall. I don’t know why Obar Ranik’s basement isn’t good enough anymore.”
Mina sorted. “Osan Ziva is jealous. She thinks the Prophets belong to everyone, not just Ranik.”
Lore sighed. “It’s the season.”
Talia was intrigued. Did every community have its petty disputes? “What season?”
“The first full moon after the solstice. Our winter holiday. Now that we are out of the Castle, we can keep the old traditions.”
“It is when Prophets give blessings,” Mina said. “We have feast.”
“Sounds like fun.”
Lore gave a rueful grimace. “Only if I find a room so the Prophets don’t play favorites. I’ll be back in half an hour. This isn’t a priority, but it’s the best way I can catch all the hound warriors at once. They’ve been looking for Belenos, but no luck. We’ve got to rethink the search.”
“Hard to smell one vampire in a city full of strangers,” Mina put in. “Not pack business.”
Lore let that pass without comment. He touched Talia’s shoulder. “You’ll be okay?”
“Sure.” Actually, she dreaded being left to make small talk, but she wasn’t going to complain.
Mina slurped her tea, the noise disapproving, as Lore left the room.
Talia put on her best face and turned back to Mina. The old woman’s stony look rekindled Talia’s dread of being thrown out into the snow. Lore’s back was turned. The incentive for Mina to make nice would drop like a stone. What do I talk about? Kids? Teaching? Her usual fallbacks were danger zones because of the school idea.
Talia gave what she hoped was a warm smile. “My grandmother always gave me her mending to do when I went to her house. She made me learn to darn socks.”
“Smart woman.” Another derisive slurp of tea.
The conversation died. Talia toyed with her mug. The bright, primary colors in the room felt like a heat lamp. She was going to start sweating any moment.
Osan Mina suddenly spoke. “Lore needs hellhound woman. There will be no pups until he takes mate. The females do not become fertile.”
Talia set down her tea before she spilled it. Too much information!
“Really?” Her voice was too high. She wondered if that was what Mavritte had meant about Lore being the pack father. “How is that possible?”
Mina’s eyes were unexpectedly compassionate. “That is our tradition. That is how it must be. He has one mate. We die, we are reborn, we find mate again. Paired always. Never outside pack.”
Despite her shock, Talia felt a puzzle piece fall into place. Half demons were immortal, and yet hellhounds aged and died. Reincarnation. That was how they could be both eternal and mortal at the same time.
Talia rubbed at the design on the side of her mug. “Lore hasn’t—uh—connected with his female yet?”
Mina shook her head. “Castle killed many who do not come back. Packs are smaller. Loved ones gone for good.”
It was true that souls could be destroyed—or at least taken out of the reincarnation circuit—by powerful magic. “She’s gone forever?”
Mina shrugged. “Who knows? It is one thing an Alpha can never prophecy.”
Talia was getting confused. Did he have someone waiting or not? “You don’t know who your once and forever mate is before you meet them?”
“Strong hounds find them. The weak die alone.” She gave Talia a hard look. “Alphas must be strong. Finding mate is test.”
Talia got the picture. If Lore didn’t take a mate, not only was the pack supposedly infertile, but he would look like a weak leader. In beast packs, weak leaders were killed.
Irritation and alarm prickled through her. So why was Lore paying so much attention to a Hunter-turnedvampire? She was the worst possible girlfriend he could have. Was she a last-minute fling before he got down to the business of being a literal father to his people? Talia folded her arms, more upset than she had any right to be.
Girlfriend? Get real. They’d slept together. It wasn’t like they had a committed relationship.
I’m prettier than Mavritte.
I’m also deader.
Thick, sour jealousy threatened to suck her down.
Lore had meant more to her than a onetime fling. She was pretty sure he felt the same way, but maybe he wasn’t thinking like an Alpha. Talia had little to lose. He risked far more by being with her. Why the hell is he doing it?
Why the hell was she letting him? People close to her got hurt: Tom, Max, Michelle. Call it bad luck or a vampire curse; she didn’t need to add Lore to the list.
A sharp rap came at the door. With that unnerving swiftness Talia had seen in Lore, Mina was out of her chair. “Who is it?”
She asked the question in English. How does she know it’s not one of the hellhounds?
The knock repeated and then the door opened. Apparently, Mina didn’t keep it locked.
Whoever it was called from the front entry. “I’m looking for Lore.”
Talia recognized the voice, but it took her a moment to place it. By the time she searched her memory, the speaker was in the kitchen. She jumped up, putting her chair between herself and the visitor.
Chapter 25
“Detective Baines,” she said, her voice tight.
“Talia Rostova,” he returned. The detective looked tired and cold, but there was triumph in his expression. “I was looking for Lore in hopes that he could tell me where you were. This is even better.”
He’s going to try to arrest me for murder. How do I play this?
Mina gave a low growl and blocked him from moving a step farther into the kitchen. Baines pulled his police ID out of his coat pocket, holding it in plain view. “This is police business. I suggest you stand aside.”
“This is my home. No place for humans.”
The old woman’s vehemence warmed Talia’s heart, even if it was for Lore’s sake.
“Then perhaps Ms. Rostova would like to come with me onto neutral ground, like down to the station.”
“Talia is our Madhyor’s guest. I look after her. You not taking her.”
It didn’t take a genius to see that this wasn’t going to end well. She wasn’t going to accept Lore’s protection if that meant getting the pack grannies arrested. “Osan Mina,” Talia interrupted. “It’s all right.”
Mina gave the detective a look that should have flayed the skin from his flesh, but she stood to one side. “I get Lore.”
Talia gripped the back of the kitchen chair. “That would be a good idea.”
Pulling herself to her full height, Mina strode out in a swirl of skirts. When the front door slammed, Talia felt the tension in the room spike. She was alone with the cop, and he smelled warmly human. Hunger began to toy with her self-control, a cat flicking at its feathery dinner.
Baines pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down. The gesture reminded Talia of her father carrying the chairs of his wife and then his daughter to the oblivion of the garage. The table was the battleground for who had the right to eat, much like a lion’s pride crowding in for a share of the kill.
There was no issue of permission as far as Baines was concerned. He apparently took whatever chair he liked. In his own way, he was an Alpha, too.