Magic Strikes(72)

manliness. Either he really was in love with Andrea or he had a terminal case of lust.

«These guys, they're all bad and aggressive as shit, and everybody wets themselves when they

walk by, and then they meet some girl and suddenly they're not uber-alphas; they are just

misunderstood little boys who want to talk about their feelings.»

«Is there a point to this dissertation?»

He faced me. «I can't be that. If that's what she wants, then I shouldn't even bother.»

I sighed. «Do you have a costume kink? French maid, nurse . . .»

«Catholic school girl.»

Bingo. «You wouldn't mind Andrea wearing a Catholic school uniform, would you?»

«No, I wouldn't.» His eyes glazed over and he slipped off to some faraway place.

I snapped my fingers. «Raphael! Focus.»

He blinked at me.

«I'm guessing-and this is just a wild stab in the dark-that Andrea might not mind if once in a

while you dressed up as a pirate. But I wouldn't advise holding her relatives for ransom nookie. She

might shoot you in the head. Several times. With silver bullets.»

An understanding crept into Raphael's eyes. «I see.»

«While we're on the subject, maybe you can clear something up for me as well. Suppose there is

an alpha male. Suppose he decides he likes a female. How would he go about . . .» Courting,

wooing? What was the right word here?

«Getting into her pants?» Raphael suggested.

«Yes. That.»

He leaned back. «Well, you have to understand that boudas aren't jackals, and jackals aren't rats,

and rats aren't wolves. Everybody has their own little quirks. But basically it's about proving that

you're clever and capable enough and can provide for her and defend her and your cubs, should

there be any.»

«Does it involve breaking and entering?»

A little smile stretched Raphael's lips. «I see His Majesty made a move. Has he asked you to

make him dinner yet?»

I growled. «This isn't about me and Curran.»

He laughed softly. «Basically, yes. It's all about breaking and entering. The way the Pack is set

up, all land belongs to the Pack as a whole. There is a bit of land around the meeting place of each

clan that's traditionally held as that clan's exclusive domain, like those four square miles around

Bouda House. It's mostly a courtesy so the clan could meet in private. There is no clan territory and

no individual territory, so your house becomes your territory. When you're pursuing a female,

you're trying to prove that you're clever enough to get in and out of her territory.»

«Aha.»

«Like I said, people get really elaborate with it. It's a point of pride. And every clan has their

own traditions. Rats are all about food. When Robert, the rat alpha, was trying to get Thomas to

notice him, he stuffed his mattress with M&M'S. Direct, but it worked. They've been together for

twelve years now. Wolves are all about class and propriety. Let's take Jennifer, the wolf alpha. She

has all of those sisters-I think there are six of them altogether-and they meet twice a week for

tea. They're English. She happened to mention to one of her friends that her dishes were all chipped

and mismatched and she needed a new set. Daniel was courting her at the time. Wolves got that

perfect memory thing. Apparently he broke into her house and replaced all of her dishes with an

antique set in mint condition. She came home, opened the cabinets, and found everything exactly

the way she had arranged it, every cup, every plate, nothing even an inch out of place. Except

everything was brand new. She had a cup and a plate in the sink, and he even replaced those and

filled them with water exactly the way he found them.»

Raphael shrugged. «I thought it was a bit dry myself, but wolf girls raved about it for years. So

classy and elegant and so sublime . . .» He rolled his eyes.

I couldn't resist. «What do boudas do?»

«We try to be funny.» His eyes sparkled. «My mom had to go out of town, and while she was

gone, my dad glued all of her furniture to the ceiling.»

I pictured Aunt B walking into her house and finding all of her furniture upside down on the

ceiling. Oh God. I couldn't help grinning. «What did your mom think about that?»

«She was pissed about the cat.»

I stared at him. «Your dad . . . ?»

«Oh no.» Raphael shook his head. «No, he didn't glue the cat to the ceiling-that would be cruel.

But she had this wire-cage cat carrier, and he glued that to the ceiling and stuffed the cat into it.»

I saw where it was going, but it was too good to interrupt and I tried to hold the laughter in.