Alex opened his eyes. In the half-light of the room he saw Michael sitting in an armchair next to the bed. "How long did I sleep?" she asked. Her voice came out slurred and hoarse.
"Two days," Michael replied. He stood up and poured her a glass of water. She took it and drank as he sat beside her. "Do you feel up to eating something?"
At her affirmative answer, he got up and left the room.
Left alone, Alex tried to sit up. The pain in her side quickly brought her back to reality. She remained still, breathing heavily with her eyes closed.
Images passed through her mind. Dark nightmares, of fights and chases. Black wolves with ferocious jaws trying to kill her, mauling her. She remembered trying to escape and run away, but they were faster and her body seemed to move in slow motion. Then the dream would stop, only to return later. She felt so tired.
Michael returned carrying a tray. He took some cushions and helped her sit up. When Alex saw his tense and tired face, she realised that he had been there beside her for those two days. The realisation of this made her feel strange. It was the first time someone had taken care of her. She ate in silence, as she did not know what to say.
When he was finished, Michael took everything away. When he returned, she was already asleep.
---
He sat back down in the armchair beside the bed, looking at his face, which had partly regained its colour and was no longer shiny with the sweat of fever. In the two days that had just passed they had feared that he would not survive the poison. Dr Fredrik had come by several times, but each time he had said that the only thing they could do was wait. And so he had waited. While the delirium of fever and poison racked Alex's body and nightmares haunted her dreams, he could only stay by her side, talking to her in an attempt to calm her sleep. But now, at last, it seemed the nightmare was over.
---
Michael followed the doctor out of Alex's room. Christopher was in the corridor waiting. The man looked at the two brothers with a smile that brightened the serious face. "He'll be fine now. He has a strong temper, and maybe even wolf blood in his veins."
"Thank you." Michael shook the doctor's hand and followed his brother down the stairs with his eyes.
---
It must have been late afternoon when he woke up. Light filtered through the curtains filling the room with a golden glow. With circumspection she turned her head around to focus on her surroundings. To his left, sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard, lay Michael. Asleep. His clothes dishevelled and his hair ruffled, Alex could hear his faint breathing. She reached out and stroked his hair. He stirred in his sleep, and his face rested in the palm of her hand. She didn't move it away, intrigued by that contact, tenderised by his tiredness and strangled by the attention he paid her. Then, gently, he withdrew it.
His gaze rose to the ceiling. In silence she reviewed her body, mentally, to realise her condition. She felt the stitches of the wound in her side pulling and burning and her head ached, but she decided to try and get up. Slowly, trying not to wake Michael, she hoisted herself up on her arms to sit up. A twinge started in her side, and she gritted her teeth to keep a groan from escaping her mouth. She let herself fall back onto the pillows, her face beaded with sweat. She resumed breathing and tried to relax her muscles, then a hand brushed her hair away from her face.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Michael's intent on watching her. "I'm sorry," he told her, and his eyes became incredibly sad.
She arched her eyebrows as she tried to restore her breathing to a regular rhythm. "And of what? Of saving me? The pain will pass, the wounds will heal. If you hadn't come I'd probably be dead now."
"It's my fault." She shook her head, but he did not allow her to speak. "It is because of me that you were attacked and injured, that your flat was destroyed. I should have left immediately."
"Don't talk nonsense! What do you have to do with an animal attack..." A twinge in her head prevented her from making up her mind and remembering clearly what had happened.
Michael saw her expression of pain. "Everything OK?" he asked.
She nodded and opened her eyes again, meeting his worried ones. "Besides, I wouldn't have let you leave in that condition!" he said, sketching a smile.
He smiled at her, a sad smile though. "I don't think you would have been able to stop me."
She raised an eyebrow. "Don't underestimate me."
He smiled at her again. 'Now go to sleep,' he murmured and caressed her face.
She was about to answer him that she was not sleepy at all and that she had slept enough, when she felt her eyelids become heavy, and before she had time to utter a word, her head had reclined to the side and her breathing was slowing down.
Michael waited a little longer to make sure that Alex would not wake up. He did not like to use his talents on her, but Dr Fredrik had been clear: the more she slept and rested, the sooner she would recover, and he feared that without that ruse he would not be able to convince Alex to stay in bed.
When he was sure she was in the middle of sleep, he got up and stretched his muscles. He ran his hands through his hair trying to put them back into place, then left the room.
In the gallery Christopher came up to him. "I was on my way to you. How is Alex?"
Michael smiled. "He is recovering."
"Good. Don't you think you should get some rest now?"
Michael nodded, "I'm going to sleep for a couple of hours." Then he looked at his brother. "Thanks Chris," he added, heading for the room next to the one Alex was sleeping in.
Michael remained a few moments looking at the bed. He felt exhausted, but finally relieved. Before he rested, however, he had something to do. He had already put it off too long. He took his mobile phone out of his pocket and dialled Roger's number. When the voice of his friend and colleague answered, his heart clenched and he felt a bitter taste in his mouth. "Roger, it's me, Michael."
"My God, Michael! What had happened to you? You had me worried."
"I know, I'm sorry, but I couldn't get in touch earlier."
"Everything OK?"
"Not exactly. Unfortunately, the problem in the family I mentioned has worsened and I can't take care of work for now."
"Don't worry. I sent Tom to Oldgrove, he's taking care of the site."
"I don't know when this will be resolved, Roger." Michael stalled, he knew that by uttering the next words he would be giving up the life he had built up over the last few years. "I have to leave the firm."
"What the hell are you saying, Mick? We're partners, you can't quit!"
"But I can give you my share, and that is what I intend to do."
"Don't talk nonsense! It is not necessary. Sooner or later the situation will settle down and you can go back to London."
Michael closed his eyes. He wished it were that simple: that this was just a moment and then he could go back to his life among humans, away from the pack. But he could not keep his partner in suspense for a time he could not quantify. When the whole situation had been resolved, he still wanted to give Christopher a hand in obtaining the role of pack leader, in which case his role as beta would still require his presence there. Of course, as soon as everything was in order he would leave again: he didn't want to live with the herd, he had long since established that, but who knows when that would be possible again.
"Mick, don't be hasty. Take all the time you need. We'll talk when you get back to London. I'll take care of everything in the meantime."
"OK." He couldn't bring himself to close that window. After all, there could be a chance - not at all unfounded - that his mother would not relinquish the role of top dog. At that point he would have had no reason to stay at Barclay House; in fact, he would have had a thousand reasons to leave there again.
He ended the phone call with Roger and went to jump into bed. Despite his thoughts and worries, he was already asleep after a few minutes.
---
It was two o'clock in the morning. Raeg had been out patrolling the alleys of Oldgrove since ten o'clock. Along with him, on the streets of the city, keeping watch over its inhabitants, human and otherwise, were Lucian, Leon and Ty. But they were few in number, and the night before another human had disappeared. Without Eleanor's approval, Christopher had very few resources at his disposal. He hoped at least that Natalie would be able to get first-hand news as soon as possible, although the idea of her being among the strays, alone, was far from reassuring. But keeping after her could prove far more risky because, if they were discovered, they would get her killed too.
A choked scream roused him from his thoughts. He stopped and located the source of the sound, then hurried to it. As he ran he drew his nine-millimetre pistol from its holster, reached the corner, flattened himself against the wall and looked over. A werewolf in the intermediate stage of transformation was hunched over a man. Its body was deformed and hunched, its head already semi-elongated with a sketch of a protruding muzzle.
"Stop!" demanded Raeg, planting himself in the middle of the alleyway with his gun drawn.
The lycanthrope raised his blood-reddened muzzle and fixed his yellow eyes on the newcomer. He let the man's inert body fall from his claws and tilted his head back slightly. 'Wolf,' he said after sniffing the air. His deformed muzzle widened into a kind of grin. "You stay with the Barclays."
"Return to your human form and come with me. We will give you a fair trial."
A guttural laugh escaped from his jaws. "I don't know what to do with your trial! Your law does not concern me!"
"It is the law of the werewolves."
"In a little while it won't be. We will be the law!"
"And who are you?"
"Now you want to know too much. But you will find out anyway very soon, at your own expense." And as he finished his sentence he threw himself at Raeg.
He fired, hitting the target twice, which fell to the ground not far away. A choked scream rose from his jaws as the bullets containing synthesised werewolf venom took effect and the wolf's body was shaken by violent convulsions. Finally he lay motionless, slumped on the ground.
Raeg passed him on his way to the human. He bent down, but he already knew that he was looking at nothing but a corpse, and in the worst condition. Parts of his face and neck had been bitten off. His eyes returned to the dead werewolf and he shook his head. It was not uncommon for a man who had just turned into a werewolf to be at the mercy of his new animal instincts, as the more feral side was difficult to deal with at first, especially if one had not been born with it and had not had all childhood and adolescence to learn how to deal with one's aggression. He called Christopher on the phone and told him what had happened.
"What do I do with the human's body?" he finally asked. He listened silently to the answer, then nodded. "OK, I'll make them both disappear." And he ended the conversation. Then he dialled another number. "Leon, I need you to meet me in the SUV on Faery Street."
---
"Everything OK?" Michael was sitting opposite him. He had seen several expressions follow one another on Christopher's face.
"A neo-anthrope slaughtered a man. Raeg was too late."
"They are too few to even keep an eye on the outskirts of Oldgrove."
"I know, and that pisses me off even more." Christopher's anger shone through his eyes and clenched fists. He got up and began to walk in front of the fireplace.
"What else is bothering you?" Michael knew his brother too well not to realise that that event alone could not have had such an effect.
"Natalie." The name was spat out harshly.
Michael narrowed his eyes. "What has he done?"
"Tonight she will be introduced into the group of Nereus."
"What?"
"I should not have sent her to the city."
"But how did he do it?"
"She met a stray who had joined Nereus' group a while ago. He let loose with her and told her about a new pack that was forming in the city, and she asked him to join it."
"Fuck! Why didn't you stop her?"
"You think I didn't try? I forbade it! But she said it was all arranged by now. She didn't tell me where the meeting is. She's not at the hotel and her mobile is switched off. The guys can't get a hold of her."
Michael reached his brother. "Take it easy, you'll see everything will be fine."
"I hope so," Christopher said, meeting her green eyes. "I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to her."
---
Music was pumping loudly from the speakers in the ceiling of the room. The purple-red satin walls were interrupted about a metre away by a white wooden batten that seemed to have been put in place to give dimension to the space that otherwise would have looked like a giant womb, in which people gothic, punk, dark, or in simple jeans moved to the hypnotic rhythm of the music, drank beer, chatted, or concluded their more or less neat business. Natalie followed Albert through the tumultuous crowd to a small black sofa in the corner. Her sense of smell was overloaded with the wolf odour that permeated the room. As he walked, his eyes passed from one figure to the next. The place was full of werewolves. He hadn't seen so many of them together since Christopher's sister's funeral. When Albert stopped in front of a small sofa her eyes met the yellow ones of a wolf dressed entirely in black - military trousers and a tight-fitting long-sleeved shirt - who was unceremoniously scrutinising her.
"This is Sylvia," said Albert, introducing her. "She has recently arrived in town, and is looking for a pack."
The yellow eyes studied her even more closely as if they wanted to read her soul. Finally the man stood up and extended his hand to her. "Night," he introduced himself. "The pack will be happy to welcome you."
Natalie spread her lips into a smile. "Thank you," she replied, wondering what that welcome would entail and what they would want in return.
---
Christopher joined his brother in the west living room on the ground floor. He found him asleep on the sofa with a book open on his chest and his head reclined. He took a plaid from an armchair and covered him, then turned off the light and went to his own room. As he undressed his thoughts went to Natalie. She still had not heard from him and he was beginning to worry. He thought back to the night she had come to Barclay House, her face, her dark winking eyes, her full, sensual lips. He shook his head, trying to push those images away, and sat down on the bed and picked up the picture on the bedside table depicting him and Sabrina at the family home in Scotland. A smile surfaced on his lips. It was one of those rare winter days when the sky was a clear, bright blue and the green meadows shone after the rain of the previous days. He put the photograph back in its place and switched off the light, taking with him into sleep the memory of that peaceful day.