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My skin felt like needles tore through it. I clenched down on the shift hard. I was not going to start barking.
Frustrated, I changed the subject, ignoring Sterling’s expression. “Why would Ronald’s wife be nice to me and invite me to Fiji? I can’t be parading around the world with supermodels and be plastered on social media feeds while wanderers stalk me and Elder Packs watch us.”
Jun slurped his chickenshake. “Maybe she just likes you. And I plaster myself on social media. Gotta get clients by showing them the goods. Cye posts pictures of food. Your wedding cake was his top post.”
“We could start a profile for you,” Cye offered shyly.
I twitched.
Sterling sipped his whiskey. “It’s impossible for either of us to be recluses. We associate with too many people who want to be noticed. I don’t suggest you search for my name, though.”
“I already have.” I’d restrained myself from searching my in-law’s names, because I wanted to meet them first. But I’d searched Sterling’s name. Aside from the pictures of us from the events we’d already been to, there were more than a few pictures of him on carpets of various colors at various society to-do’s with various gorgeous women on his arm or conspicuously stag.
My skin itched just thinking about it. I scratched my arm through my sweater.
Sterling turned his attention to Jun. “I have a job for you while we’re in Florida.”
Jun dusted off his hands. “Yeah?”
“I need you to work your bouncer contacts. Find out what these wanderers are really after. And why the GranitePaw might tolerate them literally across the park from their own heart.”
“What?” I asked.
“The GranitePaw’s heart is right on the other side of the park.” He pointed to the windows. “The GranitePaw know exactly what’s going on under their noses and they aren’t doing anything about it.”
“Maybe they know we’re sitting on a powder keg, and letting the wanderers feast on the prawns is acceptable.”
“Why am I not surprised. The Fifth Law seems to be some pretty words on paper and a nice way to control those not powerful enough to make the rules.” Sterling finished his drink, smelling of rancor and deep, old anger. He brushed his fingertips along the side of his nose—no, it wasn’t his nose. He was touching one of the old, barely-visible scars on his face.
No point in trying to argue with him about the Fifth Law, or the GranitePaw. The Council had criticized them heavily for being too urban, for their youngsters not being able to hunt proper game (it was a scandal), and for being too far off tradition. Alpha Kyle, a doctor, had countered his pack knew how to survive in an urban environment, which was the new reality for werewolves, and the Council needed to embrace it.
But part of what went into determining an Elder pack was their regional influence. They had to be powerful, prestigious, and resourced well enough that smaller packs would come to them for assistance. Things like mediating disputes, holding valuable items in escrow, or asking for help navigating some other sticky situation. Like help, I’m being harassed by wanderers. Powerful packs were responsible for Law enforcement, hunting down rogues, and in general, just protecting the greater interests of the species, not just their own pack’s survival.
So far, I hadn’t seen any evidence of the GranitePaw’s power and influence.
“New York wanderers are balls.” Jun threw a leg over the third stool and sat down. “These hives are crazy. So is Gazelle beautiful in person, Winter?”
“She’s gorgeous. She even smells pretty,” I said. “Are the wanderers out west as bad as the ones here?”
Jun waggled his left thumb. “The wanderers I knew were honeybees versus those scary Japanese wasps the size of your thumb.”
“So, find out what you can about those differences,” Sterling told Jun.
Jun grimaced. “I lasted down there because I didn’t ask questions.”
Sterling didn’t care. “Winter is right that wanderers willing to harass her so openly are very dangerous. The human bodyguards provide a bit of a deterrent, but sauntering up to the window in broad daylight with witnesses is perilous. I do not want that happening again, and I plan on telling her guards that.”
“I don’t see how they can prevent it.” We didn’t own the sidewalk.
Sterling tapped his tumbler on the counter. “That is what I pay them large sums of money every month to figure out. Jun. Wanderers.”
Jun pressed the fingers of his left hand into the palm of his right. “Burin’d be better for this. He grew up here.”
Sterling tapped his tumbler one last time and stood. “Burian’s idea of socializing is to sit on a barstool and drink until he runs his mouth into someone’s fist.”
Jun sighed and his shoulders dipped under the pressure of Sterling’s authority. “I’ve got a good thing going with my clients now. I only did it because I needed the cash. My birthpack would be… disappointed, I guess.”
Sterling snorted. “Your birthpack lost the right to be ashamed when they pushed you out the door to fend for yourself.”
