Black Dog(42)
Natividad muttered, “They’re going to hate me.”
“You can handle them,” Miguel said, with infuriating assurance. He looked at Alejandro. “Can we go in? I’m starving.”
“And you want to meet that girl. Pendejo!” Natividad whispered back, but her twin just grinned at her.
“Allí, at the end of the table, by Ezekiel,” Alejandro murmured. “You see there are places on the left side of the table.” He led the way forward, allowing his black dog shadow to rise just a little – Natividad felt it. It wasn’t lack of control, but a warning to those strangers.
Everyone looked up as they entered the room. The beautiful girl curled her lip and looked away again; her little sister stared at Natividad for a long moment and then realized she was staring, flinched, and looked away. That was strange, a black dog showing submission to a Pure girl; Natividad frowned. Then she was distracted as the older male black dog, red-haired and good looking, probably about Grayson’s age, looked her up and down with a close and insulting attention. “Pretty as well as Pure,” he said approvingly.
Natividad glared at him. He laughed and indulgently glanced down, as a powerful black dog might in humoring a pup. Natividad took a breath, but Alejandro closed his hand hard on her wrist under the pretext of guiding her to a chair. She pretended not to notice, but she also didn’t say anything. Yet.
Alejandro also stared steadily into the red-haired stranger’s face, letting his shadow come up a little more: Back off.
“Meaning no offense,” said the black dog easily. He glanced casually aside: a concession because he knew he’d been insulting.
The other male, a round-faced young man, blond-haired and freckled, said casually to Alejandro, “Don’t raise your hackles at us, hey? Grayson’s already said it’s hands-off till she’s sixteen. But, hey, pretty bird,” he added to Natividad, “We’re not blind, you know. Can’t blame a guy for looking. When you’re sixteen, how about you and me…”
“Watch it, amigo,” Natividad warned him, ignoring the hard pressure of Alejandro’s hand on her arm, “or your irresistible charm will sweep me off my feet and I’ll swoon in your arms on my sixteenth birthday – and you might ask Ezekiel how he’d like that before you say that’s fine with you.”
Ezekiel glanced up and grinned. He leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long legs and resting one elbow on the table, the very personification of arrogant self-satisfaction. Natividad almost laughed, but that would have ruined it. The rude black dog, who had already started a smart rejoinder, closed his mouth, looking unsettled. Satisfied, Natividad let Alejandro seat her between himself and Miguel.
“James Mallory,” the Dimilioc Master said to Alejandro, pointing a blunt finger at the red-haired man. He indicated the younger man. “And the irresistibly charming Benedict Mallory. James, Benedict, this is our newest Dimilioc wolf, Alejandro Toland, who approached us on his own initiative.”
“A Toland pup?” James said. “Well, well.”
“So, we have recovered all of the traditional Dimilioc bloodlines except Hammond,” said Grayson. “Yes. And that is Alejandro’s brother Miguel, who shot a number of our attackers with silver bullets before your timely arrival, or you might have found half the black dogs in creation waiting for you in the ashes of our house when you arrived.” The very flatness of the Master’s tone acted as a kind of emphasis. All four newcomers looked at Miguel with respect but Natividad stared at the Master. She was sure he had done that on purpose, deliberately raising Miguel’s status with all the Dimilioc wolves. She decided suddenly that she might actually like Grayson Lanning, even though liking the Dimilioc Master seemed as if it might be against the rules or something.
Miguel, with the black wolves all staring at him, said apologetically, “When you don’t have a shadow, you have to improvise.”
Benedict Mallory laughed. “Improvise, is it? Shot three of ‘em, did you?” He looked at Grayson. “Don’t we have a law about that?”
“I believe we may possibly find this an appropriate time to reassess several Dimilioc laws,” Grayson said, his tone very bland.
Miguel coughed. Ezekiel laughed openly. Natividad grinned, now certain she really did like the Dimilioc Master, which she had not expected at all.
“And this,” said the Master to Alejandro, “is Keziah, who descends from one of the Saudi cabals, but has declined to claim a specific line or name. She has been living rather quietly on the west coast with her sister, Amira. James and Benedict took Keziah my invitation, which, as you see, she accepted. So, Dimilioc increases.” He lifted an ironic eyebrow. What he meant, Natividad was sure, was, So, you see you are not the only one who thought of your plan. Alejandro glanced aside, color rising in his face. Miguel looked suddenly thoughtful.