I felt my smile widen though, as I thought about the havoc I could cause by insisting that they all treat me with proper pack etiquette. Wouldn't work; I was actually surprised that Adam's claim had worked well enough to keep some of them from bothering me, but it might be worth trying just to see Adam's face.
Honey's summer coat wasn't as splendid as her winter one, but it revealed the play of muscle in a way her thicker fur would not have. She knew it, too, and found a square of sunlight to pose in.
Black took a step back as she approached, but, after that first step, he held his ground. Honey gave him time to adjust before she continued forward, sitting down within touching distance.
"She's beautiful," he said, his voice only a little tight. If I hadn't been able to hear the speed of his pulse, I wouldn't have known how scared he was. If he reacted this way to his daughter, it was no wonder she was having troubles.
Honey, though, had been a werewolf for a long time and her control was excellent. She gave no sign that he was able to detect how much the scent of his fear was exciting her, and after a few minutes his fear began to die down.
"My daughter could be like this?" he asked me, sounding more naked than a man should when surrounded by strangers.
I nodded my head.
"How soon?"
"On her own? That depends upon her. But in the presence of an Alpha, immediately."
"No more cages," he whispered.
I couldn't let him think that. "Not metal ones," I told him. "But once she is a member of the pack, she'll fall out of your control and into the Alpha's. That can be a cage of sorts, though a more comfortable cage."
He took a deep, shaky breath. "Can she understand me?" he asked, nodding toward Honey.
"Yes, but she can't talk."
"All right." He looked straight in her eyes, not realizing he was challenging her. I almost said something to him, but Honey didn't seem to be bothered, so I let it go.
"If you had a daughter," he asked her, "would you bring her here? Would you trust her to Hauptman?"
She smiled at him, not so widely as to display her sharp white teeth, and wagged her tail.
He looked at me. "If I bring her here, will he take her away from us?"
I wasn't sure how to answer him. Adam wouldn't see it that way, to him the wolves were all his family, but conveying that to someone who hadn't be around a pack was difficult-and I'm not sure that a father would find it any better. How do you give up your child, even for their own good? That was a question I had never asked my mother.
"He'll take her under his wing," I said at last. "He'll take responsibility for her welfare-and he will not lightly give up that responsibility. He'd never refuse to let you see her. If she is unhappy in Adam's pack, there are other options, especially once she has control of herself."
"She can become a lone wolf," he said, relaxing.
I shook my head. I wouldn't lie to him. "No. They'd never let a female out on her own. There are too few of them, for one thing, and the males... are too protective to allow a female to fend for themselves. But she could request to change packs."
The lines on his face deepened and he swore. Three times. Honey whined. She might have been sympathetic, or just protesting the foul language. I didn't trust myself to predict Honey anymore.
"What are your alternatives?" I asked him. "If she kills someone, the wolves will have to hunt her down. How would she feel if she hurts you or her mother?"
He took out his cell phone and stared at it.
"Would you like me to call him for you?" I asked.
"No," he said and riffled around in his pocket for the paper with Adam's phone number on it. He stared at it for a moment, then almost whispered, "I'll call him tonight."
Chapter 7
"Hey, Mercy, what'cha workin on? Looks like a miniature Corvette."
I looked up to see Tony, cop and old friend-usually in that order-leaning up against one of my work benches. Today he was dressed casually in a thin shirt and khaki shorts appropriate to the hot summer day. Tony looked a bit frayed around the edges. It had been a little over two weeks since the sorcerer had moved into town and, according to the local news, the crime rate had been skyrocketing.
"Good eye," I told him. "It's a '71 Opel GT, designed by the same guy who designed the Corvette. Friend of mine bought it from some guy who replaced its wussy original engine with a Honda engine."
"He didn't do it right?"
"He did it fine. Excellent job of refitting it, as a matter of fact. I couldn't have done a better job myself." I grinned at him. "Only problem is that a Honda engine turns to the right and the Opel was designed for a lefty."
"Which means?"
I patted the sleek fender and grinned at him. "It only goes twenty miles per hour forward, but can break one hundred backward if you use all four gears."
He laughed. "Cute car." He stared at it for a minute and the smile fell away from his face. "Listen. Can I take you out to lunch? Business, so I'll foot the bill."
"Kennewick PD needs a mechanic?" I asked.
"No. But I think you can help us."
I washed up, changed out of my work clothes and met him back in the office. Honey looked up when I came in. Last week, her second week of guard duty, she'd turned up in jeans (pressed) with a folding chair, small desk, laptop and cell phone. Working out of my office was almost as good, she claimed, as working out of her own. Ever since the incident with Black, we'd been treating each other with cautious friendliness.
"I'm going to lunch with Tony," I announced. "I'll be back in an hour or so. Gabriel, would you call Charlie about his Opel, and tell him the price we got on that used Mazda RX7 engine? The cost won't make him happy, but the RX will fit."