Ashe muttered, his head down. "I wouldn't have done it except for the reason I told Jeremy. His mother needs to know he didn't suffer. The dead don't care. The living have to deal with the horror left behind."
"Yeah. I get that," Winkler whispered. "Go to bed, Ashe. We'll talk later."
"Okay." Ashe stood and walked out of the kitchen.
* * *
"It was painless, Diane. I promise. Chad's wasn't, but Jeremy's was. Ashe told him, there at the last, that he was making it painless because you and Neil didn't need terrible memories." Greta Rocklin held Diane Booth's fingers in her own. "He never suffered."
"Here." Marco held out his cell phone—he'd recorded it. Diane Booth wept as she watched her son's sparks separate peacefully and fly away.
* * *
"Honored One, I fear that we should just kill the child and be done. I hear of a frightening power he holds," Hector left the message for Wlodek, since Wlodek would be sleeping. "I will explain later, when I receive better details." Hector terminated the call.
"Say those words again, and I'll kill you where you stand," Nathan Anderson had Hector lifted up one-handed, his throat in a crushing grip. "I am older, and therefore command you to never say that to anyone again, or contemplate it, do you hear me?" Hector barely nodded before Nathan dropped him. Hector sagged to the ground. "And you will not retaliate," compulsion was thick in Nathan's voice. Aedan had trained him well. "Go. It is nearly dawn." Hector ran.
* * *
"Who did we take down last night?" Weldon Harper settled on a deck chair next to Ashe, a cup of coffee in his hand. Craig was preparing a late lunch in the kitchen. Ashe hadn't slept well so he'd gotten up shortly after noon. Now the werewolves were up as well. Lewis Sharpe was still asleep in a guest bedroom on the third floor.
"Josiah Dunnigan. Know who he is?" Ashe turned to the Grand Master.
"Yeah. From the Amarillo Pack. And that fool Nick Robbins swore none of his had any connections to Obediah Tanner. Looks like Josiah was connected to Obediah and Ezekiel."
"Not anymore," Ashe pointed out, watching the waves slosh over the sand on the beach. The day was bright and sunny, and the tide was higher than normal. Tourists were forced to walk through the loose sand farther up unless they wanted to wade in the surf.
"I may pay Nick a visit on the way home," Weldon grumped. "Stupid fool."
"Take Thomas with you," Ashe said.
"You think I need backup?"
"You might. Ask Nick how he paid his mortgage off early."
"Kid, you're just downright scary, sometimes. And what was that I saw last night? I'm still having a hard time coming to terms with it."
"That reminds me, I need to replace Winkler's toaster oven," Ashe said. "It's called separating particles. Not many can do it, but there are a few races that can."
"Are you telling me that other Elemaiya?" Weldon sounded shocked.
"No, I'm the only one of the Elemaiya who can do it," Ashe said. "There are other, more powerful races than the Elemaiya. Want to make a quick trip to Corpus and pick out a toaster oven?"
* * *
"I wondered what happened to that," Craig snapped when Ashe set the box containing the new toaster oven on the kitchen island.
"Here's a new one, better than what you lost," Ashe said. "Now, you will not remember anything that happened last night concerning Jeremy's execution." Ashe placed compulsion while Craig's eyes went blank.
"And you can be more civil to the kid, here," Weldon held out his coffee cup for a refill.
"Yes, Grand Master," Craig almost bowed before reaching for the coffeepot.
"It's good to be the king," Ashe whispered as he and Weldon walked onto the deck again.
"Sometimes. Until you take all the phone messages and listen to the multitude of complaints," Weldon said.
"There's that," Ashe agreed. "Sali always said that about Marcus."
"I was a Packmaster once, too. Sacramento," Weldon sighed. "Thomas' father was my Second. He took over when I challenged old George. I think George
"Yeah. I get that," Winkler whispered. "Go to bed, Ashe. We'll talk later."
"Okay." Ashe stood and walked out of the kitchen.
* * *
"It was painless, Diane. I promise. Chad's wasn't, but Jeremy's was. Ashe told him, there at the last, that he was making it painless because you and Neil didn't need terrible memories." Greta Rocklin held Diane Booth's fingers in her own. "He never suffered."
"Here." Marco held out his cell phone—he'd recorded it. Diane Booth wept as she watched her son's sparks separate peacefully and fly away.
* * *
"Honored One, I fear that we should just kill the child and be done. I hear of a frightening power he holds," Hector left the message for Wlodek, since Wlodek would be sleeping. "I will explain later, when I receive better details." Hector terminated the call.
"Say those words again, and I'll kill you where you stand," Nathan Anderson had Hector lifted up one-handed, his throat in a crushing grip. "I am older, and therefore command you to never say that to anyone again, or contemplate it, do you hear me?" Hector barely nodded before Nathan dropped him. Hector sagged to the ground. "And you will not retaliate," compulsion was thick in Nathan's voice. Aedan had trained him well. "Go. It is nearly dawn." Hector ran.
* * *
"Who did we take down last night?" Weldon Harper settled on a deck chair next to Ashe, a cup of coffee in his hand. Craig was preparing a late lunch in the kitchen. Ashe hadn't slept well so he'd gotten up shortly after noon. Now the werewolves were up as well. Lewis Sharpe was still asleep in a guest bedroom on the third floor.
"Josiah Dunnigan. Know who he is?" Ashe turned to the Grand Master.
"Yeah. From the Amarillo Pack. And that fool Nick Robbins swore none of his had any connections to Obediah Tanner. Looks like Josiah was connected to Obediah and Ezekiel."
"Not anymore," Ashe pointed out, watching the waves slosh over the sand on the beach. The day was bright and sunny, and the tide was higher than normal. Tourists were forced to walk through the loose sand farther up unless they wanted to wade in the surf.
"I may pay Nick a visit on the way home," Weldon grumped. "Stupid fool."
"Take Thomas with you," Ashe said.
"You think I need backup?"
"You might. Ask Nick how he paid his mortgage off early."
"Kid, you're just downright scary, sometimes. And what was that I saw last night? I'm still having a hard time coming to terms with it."
"That reminds me, I need to replace Winkler's toaster oven," Ashe said. "It's called separating particles. Not many can do it, but there are a few races that can."
"Are you telling me that other Elemaiya?" Weldon sounded shocked.
"No, I'm the only one of the Elemaiya who can do it," Ashe said. "There are other, more powerful races than the Elemaiya. Want to make a quick trip to Corpus and pick out a toaster oven?"
* * *
"I wondered what happened to that," Craig snapped when Ashe set the box containing the new toaster oven on the kitchen island.
"Here's a new one, better than what you lost," Ashe said. "Now, you will not remember anything that happened last night concerning Jeremy's execution." Ashe placed compulsion while Craig's eyes went blank.
"And you can be more civil to the kid, here," Weldon held out his coffee cup for a refill.
"Yes, Grand Master," Craig almost bowed before reaching for the coffeepot.
"It's good to be the king," Ashe whispered as he and Weldon walked onto the deck again.
"Sometimes. Until you take all the phone messages and listen to the multitude of complaints," Weldon said.
"There's that," Ashe agreed. "Sali always said that about Marcus."
"I was a Packmaster once, too. Sacramento," Weldon sighed. "Thomas' father was my Second. He took over when I challenged old George. I think George
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