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“I’ll call MaryAnne,” I said, even though it seemed impossible that things had gone sideways. We had enlisted the AmberHowl’s help specifically to prevent this exact double-cross.
MaryAnne picked up on the third ring. “Hello, Winter.”
“Is it true?” I asked. No prelude, no pussy-footing, no politeness. No idea what was true, but figured that was the way to get a direct confession with no bullshit.
I waited for her to say is what? What are you talking about?
Instead, she said, “I’m sorry, Winter.”
Her voice was neutral, underlaced with a bit of gentleness, like the nap of suede, that rubbed all my emotions raw and bleeding again. Like the look Luna Marcella had given me, poor little rabbit, she has no idea what she’s in for.
I gripped the bed, barely able to breathe. “What? What’s true? What was Jerron talking about?”
“It would seem that your mating with Sterling was not recorded before your father’s death.”
Did not compute. “You didn’t get a copy of the recording when you got the bride-price demand?”
An Alpha couldn’t randomly demand a bride-price. It had to be accompanied by an official statement on the pairing. Bride-price meant the mating was sanctioned. Blood-price meant the mating wasn’t, the female had almost certainly run away, and her Alpha was past caring about the whole fiasco.
Those were the only two options. The AmberHowl should not have accepted the demand without the accompanying assertion from the SilverPaw.
“At the time you contacted me, your father’s death had just been reported. An Alpha hadn’t been named yet. A Chronicler wasn’t at SilverPaw to secure his records. Either there never was a recording, or your brother destroyed it before Anais got there.”
“That has nothing to do with anything! You should have gotten the request. Are you saying you didn’t notice it missing?”
Another pause. “I’m sorry, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I could have sworn I saw it, but… I guess I didn’t.”
“You expect me to believe that?” I exploded.
“I noticed it was missing last Monday when I went to finalize everything. Anais prepared a record for Jerron to sign, but he’s refused. He will not create a record. He says since Rodero didn’t see fit to record your pairing, neither will he.”
“It’s a lie. You know it, I know it, Demetrius knows it, Jerron knows it. This is all a lie!”
MaryAnne paused, then murmured, very, very quietly, “I know.”
I know.
Everything around and within me cracked like a huge sheet of ice under an impact.
Everything we’d done, every awful event we’d set into motion, had been for nothing. We broke the Law of Proper Behavior being together. Demetrius broke the Law of Proper Behavior. Jerron broke it. Even MaryAnne was violating her Chronicler vows.
“Demetrius presided over this.” I couldn’t keep the quaver out of my voice. “There’s a gap in the Archives.”
“I know,” she murmured. “I drew up a statement for Demetrius. He and Luna Marcella both declined to sign it.”
“And told you to stay out of it, right?” I bit out. “Or was the statement destroyed? Did Demetrius think I wouldn’t find out about this? How many ways am I getting screwed here, MaryAnne?”
It sounded like the breath she took had a bit of a quaver to it.
I could have laid into her, but it wouldn’t have fixed anything. She was an adjunct Chronicler, and she was an AmberHowl. All the power and politics of the Chronicler sat with the Chronicler, and there was a big fat VACANCY sign over it. The adjuncts would just mumble something about “the Alphas have their reasons.”
Even if Sterling and I could get to a Greater Meeting, and even if we could howl loudly enough to get our voices heard, it wouldn’t matter. The Elder Council wouldn’t be eager to examine the motives of one of their peers. And if I started flinging accusations of inappropriate behavior and corruption and the Archives being compromised by Rodero of SilverPaw…
It’d all lead back to where it began: Sterling, Cerys, Deadbeat, and twenty years ago.
MaryAnne bowed out of the conversation.
Before I knew what I was doing, I’d called Jerron.
