About Face (Wolf Within) Page 9

  “I’ll bring you a Guinness too.” Alannah winked at me and bustled away to get my dinner.

  The pub was boisterously crowded with people. My pack mates, but the only ones I knew were Fee, Alannah and Paddy.

  Paddy appeared on the stairs about forty-five seconds after we walked in and joined us at the table.

  He gave me an appraising look and grinned. “You look beautiful tonight, Stanzie.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “And so do you, my adorable pregnant bond mate.” He turned his attention to Fee, who wrinkled her nose at him before she dug into her plate of bangers and mash.

  “You’re so full of shite,” she muttered around a mouthful. She was beautiful. Her green dress brought out the amber highlights in her eyes, and she’d pulled her hair back into a silver Celtic knot design barrette so the angles of her face were sharply defined.

  “Any sign of my stupid brother?” Fee gulped at her water, and when she set her glass down, Paddy poured more from the pitcher.

  “No, and the bastard’s not answering his frigging phone either.”

  “Gobshite.” Fee’s exhaled breath sounded more like a growl than anything else.

  My meal arrived then, and I hid behind my Guinness so neither of them could see my expression.

  A flat-screen television bolted to the wall showed a soccer match, although the sound was muted. Soft pop music floated above the animated chatter of the pack. On the television, one team scored a goal, and a yell of outrage went up from the crowd.

  “You like football, Stanzie?” Fee asked as she followed my gaze to the television.

  For a minute I was confused because I forgot in Ireland they called it football.

  “I’m not much for sports, especially played by Others,” I admitted.

  “Do you watch television? Go to movies?” Paddy raised one of his eyebrows in the way he had, and I had this mad desire to run to the ladies’ room and practice in the mirror. How the hell did he get only one brow to rise at a time?

  “Sometimes.”

  “Shopping with her is a trip,” Fee told him. “Surrounded by a sea of Others, Stanzie acts like she’s the only one at the shops. She barely deigns to meet the sales clerk’s eyes when she presents her credit card, and I don’t think she’s ever heard of small talk.”

  “I couldn’t understand half the people today. Goddamn Irish accents,” I protested. A bloom of warmth stole across my face. “I’m not mean, am I?”

  “No. More like oblivious.” Fee reached out to pat my hand reassuringly. “You’re a queen among paupers, love.”

  “That doesn’t make me sound oblivious, that makes me sound patronizing and elitist.”

  “Nah, just sheltered. I don’t think you did much shopping until lately.”

  “I usually order online from catalogs. It’s easier,” I admitted. “Except for shoes. I have to try them on. That’s half the fun.”

  “But shoe shopping is normally something you can do without some Other fluttering along in your wake, asking if she can help you.”

  “Until I started buying designer. They keep all the shoes in the back except for the ones on display. It’s fucking maddening.” I bit my lip to shut my damn mouth. I was patronizing and elitist. Others didn’t matter much to me. Even when I’d worked in an office, I’d kept to my own cubicle as much as possible and done my solitary work without bothering with my coworkers unless I had to.

  “Oi, who’s this, then?” A man with jet-black hair and vivid blue eyes slid into the empty chair at our table and stared at me with curiosity bordering on rudeness.

  “Declan Byrne, this is Stanzie Newcastle.” Fee’s voice was prim. “My stupid brother’s bond mate, so keep your pecker in your pants, okay?”

  Paddy snickered, propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward as if to watch a sports match.

  The black-haired man winked at me. “I’m not in the habit of whipping out the family jewels before I’m properly introduced, so no worries, Fiona, calm down.”

  Fiona stuck out her tongue and gave me a long-suffering look. “Declan thinks he’s God’s gift to women, Stanzie.”

  “Paddy, did you put Fee up to this blatant cock-blocking act, or should I feel flattered she still wants me for herself?” Declan grinned in Paddy’s direction, and Paddy laughed.

  “Stanzie’s her stupid brother’s bond mate, Byrne, you figure it out.”

  “Ah, he’s not here. And he’s made it plain he thinks she wants out of their agreement. Tell me you’re here to find a new bond mate, love. Ever think about a triad?” He leaned across the table to smile at me, and I resisted the urge to spit a mouthful of Guinness at his arrogant face.

  “Not since both my bond mates died in the twisted metal of what was left of my car after I crashed it,” I said, and both Paddy and Fee winced.

  Declan Byrne’s flirtatious smile faded. “You kill ’em on purpose?”

  When I picked up my glass, Paddy grabbed it. I guess he thought I was going to throw it in Declan’s face. Really, all I wanted was a sip of beer. Although the thought of tossing the contents in Declan’s smarmy face had crossed my mind, I’d planned on resistance., No matter what Paddy thought.

  “Fuck off, Declan,” said Paddy. “Jaysus, try not to be such a bloody moron. I know it’s a stretch, but surely you can just about manage it.”

  “I’m not the one who started it. She did,” Declan protested.

  “Because you’re an asshole not letting her finish her damn dinner before you’re crawling halfway across the table so you can look down her shirt close up. Have some pride, man.” Paddy gave him a shove and Declan grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling out of his chair.

  “Well, how in the hell many people has she killed? I only knew about the psychopath whose throat she ripped out, but she killed her bond mates too? Bloody hell, Padraic, are you letting just anyone into the pack on Liam Murphy’s say-so? You know damn well his taste in women is frigging awful.”

  “Piss off.” All of Paddy’s goodwill evaporated, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re so full of shite, Declan. Stanzie and Liam are your biggest competition, so we all know you’re only here to divide and conquer. You think with a triad you’ll be in even better position as Mac Tire’s next Alphas?”

  “Not if I bond with a bitch who kills people right and left like this one. Bollocks to that.” Declan’s handsome face twisted into ugliness as he shoved back his chair and stomped away. Good thing Paddy had grabbed my glass after all.

  “Sorry about that, Stanzie.” Paddy’s eyes gleamed with ire. “Why the hell’d you have to say that about your bond mates, anyway? Why are you giving him ammunition? Didn’t you listen to anything I told you last night?”

  “I’m just trying to eat my dinner, Paddy,” I said, but the truth was I couldn’t eat another bite. What I wanted to do was get up and walk the hell out, but I couldn’t do that either.

  Pack politics were such a bitch, and I’d never played them right. Tonight was no exception.

  “What the hell’d you ever see in that bastard?” Paddy rounded on Fiona, who calmly forked up the last of her mashed potatoes and ate them before she answered.

  “It’s a girl thing,” she said and Paddy groaned.

  “You say that every single bloody time you fuck up. Why can’t you admit you fucked up for once?”

  “Because I’m not convinced I did.” Fiona set down her fork and looked contemplative. “The sex wasn’t that great. I kept waiting for it to get better, but it never really did. So, Stanzie, don’t waste your time, love. You want good in bed, take Paddy. The man knows what do with his tongue when he finally shuts the fuck up and puts it to other uses besides bitching.”

  I flashed back to my tribunal when we’d all shifted so my wolf could meet the Council’s wolves. Images of Paddy with his head buried between the thighs of one of the Advisors filled my mind, and I wriggled a little in my chair.

  Paddy saw me do it and grinned, the bastard.

/>   “Sadly, she has scorned all my advances, Fee,” he lamented, and Fee looked highly entertained.

  “Good things come to those who wait, love.” She patted his arm consolingly, and he sighed.

  “Fiona taught me everything I know as far as tongues go,” Paddy said, and he and Fee watched my face and burst into laughter.

  “We’re always looking for someone to practice on together,” he added, and Fee gave me a wink.

  “Hell,” I said. “My Guinness is gone. This night has gone from awful to tragic. I might cry.”

  “Fee and I could make it better,” Paddy teased, but he got to his feet and took my glass to the bar for a refill as I’d intended.

  “We’re terrible flirts, Stanzie. Tell us to fuck off, and we’ll stop, I promise.” Fee heaved herself to her feet. “I can’t even drink half a bloody glass of water without feeling like I’m drowning in my own piss. Being pregnant is bollocks, I swear.” As she muttered to herself, she waddled for the ladies room.

  “Sexy,” I mused. She cursed the group of men crowded beneath the flat-screen television, blocking the way to the restrooms. They scattered once they realized who swore at them. One of them tried to help her, and she almost took his head off.

  Paddy put my beer on the table and, laughing, took a seat.

  “Mother of God, that baby can’t come quick enough. I swear she’s waddling like a frigging duck lately. That only started this week. Normally, she’s graceful as a swan.”

  “So says the pig who knocked her up in the first place. Your compassion is overwhelming, Alpha.” I took a healthy swig from my beer, and Paddy grimaced at me.

  “Killjoy.”

  The speaker system shut off, and the pop music died. I looked around and saw Declan Byrne at a control panel behind the bar. He moved toward a small stage on the side of the pub and pulled the cover off a gorgeous twenty-two string Celtic harp. It could have been the twin of the one I’d once owned.

  Declan Byrne was the musician of the pack, apparently. He sat behind the harp and fiddled with the strings and levers a bit to tune it and then launched into a cheerful Irish song that showcased his technical prowess. He was definitely no stranger around the strings. A few members of the pack gathered around and began to sing. I turned my chair around so I could watch. He played with an easy grace that must have taken him years to develop.

  After three tunes he switched to a guitar for some rowdy Irish bar songs, and more people began to sing along, including Paddy and Fee. I knew some of them, but I kept silent, my gaze fixed lustily on the harp.

  After an hour of continuous playing, Declan took a break and went to the bar. Alannah drew him a beer and he gulped at it. I slid off my chair and walked over to him, aware Paddy and Fee both watched me.

  “You prefer the guitar or the harp?” I leaned my elbows on the bar as he finished off his beer in three long swallows and set the glass down. Alannah whisked it away for a refill.

  Declan ruminated for a moment. “Not sure I have a preference.”

  “I play the harp.” I knew by the way his eyes lit up I sounded too eager, and I wanted to slow down. But it had been three years, and for some reason tonight, the music had torn a hole inside me that I needed to fill. “Could I play?”

  He stretched his mouth into a sardonic grin and took his refill from Alannah before he gulped at it. He looked around the pub for a moment, his blue eyes alert.

  “Yes. I reckon everyone’s drunk enough they won’t hear your mistakes. But I will. And I’m gonna point out each one afterward. That’s the price of admission. Too steep, woman?”

  Three years was a long time away from the strings. I was bound to make some mistakes, but I didn’t give a shit if the bastard pointed them out to me. What the hell did I care? I’d hear them, too.

  “No problem,” I said, and his grin widened into derision. I’m sure he planned to rub my nose in every wrong note.

  When he shrugged toward the harp, I needed no further invitation.

  My heart trip-hammered as I stepped up onto the small platform stage. A hush spread over the pub when everyone saw me. I had expected an audience, but I hadn’t anticipated the complete quiet. Declan must have gestured for their attention when my back was turned, and not a person in the pub moved or spoke.

  I sat still for a moment and let the music steal into my fingers. I didn’t plan on what I would play; I let my fingers choose.

  Three years they had been forced into submission. They’d stood idle, and their calluses had disappeared from disuse, my skin smooth and soft where it had once been hard and tough.

  Declan had played fast and lively tunes, but I was sad and wistful, so I wasn’t surprised when I heard the first strains of Carolan’s Farewell to Music drift into the silence.

  I suppose it was risky—maybe even cheeky—to play a tune by the man venerated as the last of the great Irish bards. Declan might believe I did it to impress, but I didn’t do it for that. I did it for my fingers and my soul, denied the music for so long.

  The strings were sharp against my soft skin, and I knew I wouldn’t have the stamina to play an hour straight as Declan had, but I could last the four and half minutes it took me to play the one song.

  Over the years as I’d become adept with the harp, I’d learned to feel the music beyond the technical composition. This song was one of my favorites, and the way I played it was different than most harpists. I slowed the tempo and added hesitations most did not. The music breathed through my fingers.

  The song was committed to muscle memory, so I had no need of sheet music. I didn’t even have to think, just play. My connection to the harp came back in a gratifying rush, and I felt my soul’s music open up. The place where it resided had been squeezed tight ever since Grey and Elena died and my harp had been destroyed.

  The emotion that swirled through the pub was not all my own. I’d affected the pack on a metalevel, and when I looked up after the song, they were one and all within my grasp. They existed inside and beside me in the unique way that came with music’s gateway. I’d played at Regionals before, and this was the intoxicating feeling I remembered. Everyone was linked together like we were during group sex before the Great Hunt.

  An incredulous smile of joy lit Paddy’s face as he stared at me from the table with Fee. She was very still, her face transported with a bittersweet wistfulness. She understood the music the way I did—I felt that. She knew how it affected me.

  Declan Byrne, from his vantage point in front of the stage, shook his head as if to clear it from my influence.

  “How many mistakes did you count?” My question broke the spell that bound us all. Our connection shimmered in the air and was gone in an instant.

  “Fuck you. Mistakes. I never heard it played quite that way, but there were no mistakes. Where the hell’d you learn to play like that? And me thinking you just took a few lessons in your spare time like a spoiled American brat. You bitch—Carolan? You played Carolan for this crowd? You’re insane, you are, but you got away with it, damn you.” Declan was torn between fury and reluctant admiration. I saw him seesaw on the edge of his temper, but his love of music won out, and he grinned at me.

  For a second I sensed the attraction he must have held for Fee. And for his bond mate, Alannah Doyle.

  “My mother taught me,” I answered and thought of the years of lessons with Wren. At first I’d tried to play like her, and then she tried to play like me. Eventually she had declared I was so beyond her own skill that she would take lessons from me and not the other way around anymore. “I played professionally for years. It’s how I made money for my pack before I became an Advisor.”

  “Her not telling me a word of this, and me thinking she would embarrass the fuck out of herself. I’ve been played, I have. Alannah, get this woman a drink,” Declan bellowed, and the crowd erupted with laughter. A few of them called out for me to play something else. Some asked for specific songs by name, and when I heard one I knew, I played it. My fingers were so
re, but I had a few more minutes left before I started to bleed.

  * * * *

  Protests rang out loudly when I stood up, but my fingers were numb, and I really wanted a drink.

  Several people grabbed my arms and helped me down, and I don’t think my feet touched the ground more than twice before I arrived at the bar and slid onto one of the stools.

  Paddy materialized beside me and slung an arm around my shoulders.

  “Are you sure you’re not Irish, woman?” he demanded and gave me a kiss. His lips were light and teasing against mine, but he wanted more, and I nearly gave in and opened my mouth for his seeking tongue, but cold beer spilled over my hand and startled me, so I pulled away.

  “Sorry,” said Alannah with a wink as she mopped up the spill with a bar rag. Paddy gave her a suspicious look, but she just laughed.

  “This is what I meant by proving yourself to this pack, woman. You had us all eating out of the palm of your hand. You’ll be a fucking brilliant Alpha,” Paddy whispered into my ear. He swirled his tongue around the lobe and sent a shiver down my spine. “Where’d you learn all those Irish songs, and you not being Irish?”

  “Only someone Irish can play an Irish song?” I countered and gave his chest a push so he would stop doing wicked things with his tongue and my ear. “Besides my grandfather’s last name was Callahan, so you tell me if I’m Irish or not.”

  “Callahan,” Paddy shouted and those around us all came to attention. “This woman’s a Callahan!”

  A roar went up from the crowd, and I rolled my eyes, both embarrassed and shocked.

  “A quarter,” I yelled above them all. “At best a quarter. And Grandfather Neil and his family have been in America for decades. I’m not Irish.”

  “You’re a Callahan,” insisted Paddy and tried to kiss me again but Declan Byrne shouldered into him and threw him off balance.

  “Tell us, Stanzie, what does it feel like to rip out a man’s throat with your wolf’s teeth?” Declan’s voice rang out above the noise of the pub, and there was instant silence.

  Paddy muttered something in Irish under his breath, his face suffused with wrath.