Scratch the Surface. Amy Lee Burgess

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      Now she sat across from me, her head tilted like a bird’s, and grinned at me as she congratulated me for becoming an Advisor and a member of Mac Tire. It was as if she’d always been on my side of things and believed in me, when she absolutely had not.

      “It’s all because of Councilor Allerton,” I managed to choke out. I wanted some sugar but was afraid to reach for it. In this strange world of contradictions and about-faces, I thought my arm might fall off or something equally bizarre.

      She tilted her head to the side and smiled at me as if I were a well-behaved dog. “I believe you must have done something to attract his attention. You don’t get to be an Advisor simply because of happenstance.”

      I wanted to argue, because that’s exactly how I’d done it, but instead I watched Allerton pour cream into his cup and when he offered the pitcher to me, I took it, fully expecting to drop it or have it turn into a rubber chicken or something else totally unexpected.

      It remained a pitcher of cream firmly in my grasp and I managed to pour some into my cup.

      “I believed you were drunk the night of the accident, Stanzie. I was wrong. Please accept my apologies. This whole new chapter has thrown me for a loop, I’m afraid. I’ve had to reconstruct many of my previous beliefs and I hope that if I’m ever involved in a case like yours again, I will have more compassion as well as discernment.” Kathy Manning’s tone was sweet and sincere. She couldn’t reach across the wide expanse of the table to touch me, but she settled for giving me a very warm smile. “Your pack was so vehement and I thought they were the best judges of your character. I tended to believe you at first, but the more they talked, the less I trusted my initial judgment. That’s not a good trait for a Councilor to nurture, I’m afraid. Forgive me?”

      Nervously, I wiped the backs of my fingers across my mouth. My lips were dry and chapped from the wind and shifting the night before. I’d forgotten both lip balm and lipstick. I did have on eye makeup. I seemed to always remember that, but sometimes I forgot my lips.

      “You did what you thought was best,” I allowed. I was feeling more and more unreal and agitated the more I realized how alone I was without Murphy.

      “That’s very generous of you. In your place, I’d want to spit in my coffee,” said Kathy Manning, as she winked at me. She swallowed the rest of the liquid in her cup and rose gracefully to her feet. “I’d better see to that casserole. Do you like Brussels sprouts? I have this wonderful recipe for Brussels sprouts Parisian that I hope everyone will like. Normally, you say Brussels sprouts and everyone’s first reaction is to grimace and pass the platter without taking any, but I swear if you try these, Stanzie, you will like them.”

      “Do you need any help?” I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t want to sit here at this enormous table and stare at Allerton for the rest of the afternoon. That was for sure.

      A pleased smile lit up her face. “No, but thank you so much for the offer. I’ve got a certain way I like to do things in the kitchen and it’s best if I do it alone. Helpers tend to get in my way and then I feel awful for snapping at them. You enjoy your coffee with Councilor Allerton. Have a cookie—they’re homemade. Sugar cookies, a grandmother’s secret recipe.” She gave us both a rueful smile. “I’m not quite a grandmother yet, but I managed to cadge the secret out of one. She was happy to pass it along, actually. Made her feel useful and wanted, I suspect.”

      The topic of grandmothers and grandfathers was a sore one with me and although she knew what was going on in the Pack, apparently she still managed to be able to separate the good and innocent grandmothers and grandfathers from the corrupt ones.

      The mere thought of them made me shudder. I didn’t trust any of them anymore.

      She left the door open on her way out and I heard her cheerfully humming to herself in the kitchen. It was only a few feet away from the conference room in the back of the house.

      Allerton helped himself to a sugar cookie in the shape of a mitten. It was glazed with green frosting and dotted with red M and Ms. It looked damned good but I refused to give in and eat one.

      He consumed the green mitten and half of a red stocking before he said, “Aren’t you going to ask me why Liam has such an issue with Colin Hunter?” His voice was mild and completely casual which made me doubly determined not to ask. If Murphy wanted me to know, he’d tell me. I didn’t need to hear the gossip behind his back, even if it came from a Councilor.

      “No.” I took a sip of my coffee. I grimaced because I’d forgotten the sugar and hastily remedied that overlooked necessity.

      Allerton smiled and took another bite of the red stocking. “These are really very, very good, Constance.” He pushed the plate invitingly closer to me but I resisted.

      He waited until I had the cup raised to my lips before inquiring, “How are things going with you and Liam? Everything working out?”

      I swallowed wrong and only by sheer force of will avoided going into a coughing fit. “We’re fine.” I hoped my tone encouraged him to change the damn subject.

      “Do you like him?” He was deliberately oblivious. And sadistic, I decided grumpily.

      “I said we were fine.” A note of truculence crept into my voice.

      “But that’s not an answer to the question I asked.” He finished the red stocking then looked wistfully at the plate and the remaining six cookies—three more mittens, one stocking, a Christmas tree and a snowman, and resisted.

      “You know I can’t help but feel partially responsible for the fact you two are together.” He poured more coffee into his cup and into mine.

      Partially responsible? I thought with an inward snort. Try completely. Totally. Under normal circumstances Murphy’s and my orbits would never have crossed at the Great Gathering.

      “Councilor, I would have thought it was obvious I liked Murphy from the way I fell apart when he nearly died.” I sounded waspish and my fingers reached for the snowman without my permission. My stomach and my brain did not always listen to each other.

      “That could have been guilt.” He stirred in cream and sugar. The silver band of his wrist watch gleamed in the firelight.

      The sun outside had gone behind a cloud and the dim lighting of the chandelier cast an almost melancholy glow over the table.

      The snowman crumbled into three pieces between my agitated fingers. “I didn’t do it,” I denied through numb lips.

      “I know that,” he agreed with a patient smile. “But you did bite him and that was the reason he took that pill in the first place.”

      I swallowed against a sudden obstruction in my throat. The scent of vanilla and sugar clogged my sinuses and I wanted to be anywhere else but where I was at this moment.

      “We’ve been working on my wolf,” I confessed in a low, distressed tone. My words came in a rushed, defensive tumble even though I knew he wasn’t judging me. “We shift every chance we get and my wolf knows words for things now that she never knew before. She doesn’t run and play, she listens and learns. She would never bite him now. Never bite anybody.”

      Allerton put a fatherly hand over mine. The rest of the cookie disintegrated into crumbs.

      “Constance, СКАЧАТЬ