He introduced himself to Winkler, who nodded and took his hand. "Avery Phillips," he said, nodding and smiling when Winkler gave his name. Avery already knew who it was, I could tell. He fawned all over Weldon, asking about Daryl and his new wife. Weldon was tactful, I'll give him that. Avery remembered me too; I could see it in his eyes, although he didn't speak to me. I figured most of the Packmasters remembered me quite well. I'd killed at least twenty of them, more than likely right under their noses while I'd protected Weldon from Lester Briggs and his henchwolves. Only two wolves eventually came to help, along with Daryl, Weldon's son.
"We're here to do the inspection. Weldon does it for all new Packmasters after six months or more," Winkler dropped back to speak quietly with me. I still felt rumpled from being tossed around in a body bag. Winkler and Kelvin had flung my purse and everything else inside my suitcase, so I didn't even have a mirror to check my hair.
"He's doing it tonight?" I squeaked, staring at Winkler in alarm.
"Oh, no, we're going to dinner. Avery will drop us off at our hotel first and wait while we change clothes before taking us to a restaurant. He'll do his best to impress, but the meeting with the werewolves of the Pack will come tomorrow night. If there are any grievances or problems, The Grand Master will hear them. Weldon has experience sorting out truth from fiction."
"If not, there's always compulsion," I shrugged.
"Exactly," Winkler grinned at me. "Actually, you're a big part of the reason we're making such a lengthy trip—you accounted for quite a few Packmaster replacements across the country."
"Don't blame this on me," I elbowed him in the ribs. "Mr. I was in Corpus Christi at the time werewolf."
"Too bad I wasn't there; I might have saved you a few bites," Winkler chuckled.
"You got eyes on your ass?" I snipped. "That sounds like hindsight to me."
We had three suites in a hotel near a bridge on the river. Each of the wolves was getting his own suite. Winkler and Weldon had connecting doors and I was set up in the living area of Weldon's suite so I could provide night security for the Grand Master. Winkler already offered his bed for me to sleep in during the day; it was his and Kelvin's job to see that I wasn't disturbed and the curtains remained tightly closed. Fortunately, my body bag had been left inside the jet. The werewolf pair that had flown us got rooms at a hotel near the airport so they could see to the plane, getting it refueled and ready to go in two days.
A quick bath and a change of clothes made me feel quite a bit better. I dressed in a nice pair of slacks, boots and a sweater with a jacket to go to dinner with the wolves. It was just below freezing outside so I wore appropriate clothing. Avery had two cars waiting for us outside the hotel as we trooped through the sliding glass doors at the entrance. Winkler and Weldon went with Avery and another werewolf while Avery's Second, Norwood, drove Kelvin and me. Norwood and Kelvin sat up front talking; I sat in the back seat and listened. I learned that Norwood worked as an EMT with the local fire department. Kelvin explained that he'd just finished his residency in oncology, so they found quite a bit to talk about. Fine with me. I pretty much hate small talk and listening to a conversation about intubating a patient almost made me glaze over.
Of course, we ended up at some ritzy steak house; werewolves are notorious for eating half a cow at one sitting. I listened while they ordered a ton of food and then watched as they tore into it. Wisely, I kept my comments about their eating habits to myself. Avery didn't speak to me and neither did Norwood, since I was the vampire security detail and beneath their notice. Maybe I should have reminded them I was Pack, but Weldon probably wouldn't appreciate that. Not one tiny bit. Avery turned out to be a namedropper and enjoyed tooting his own horn a little too much for my taste. I'm sure he might have regaled Weldon with his exploits on taking his predecessor Corwin down, but even Avery realized that bragging over that feat would be a major faux pas. See, I do know a little French—not that it would impress Gavin in the least. An old friend of mine used to call that term fox paws. I smiled at the memory.
"What are you smiling about?" Avery's Second looked at me and asked.
"I was just thinking about an old friend," I said and let it go at that.
Chapter 7
The books that I'd ordered online before leaving home got me through the night. I read two. One was political humor, the other a mystery. Kelvin, who was up early the next morning and drinking a cup of coffee, asked if he could borrow the mystery. I handed it over to him and told him it was good. Winkler was still in bed, propped against half a dozen pillows while he sipped coffee and watched the news on a flat screen television when I walked in. He grinned and patted the bed beside him. I just patted my butt, my signal for him to kiss my ass. His grin widened so I gave him the standard rude gesture. He was laughing when I stalked into his bathroom to change into pajamas. Winkler politely vacated the bed when I crawled into it and as usual, I was out like a light the moment daybreak occurred.
* * *
"That's just uncanny." Kelvin stuck his head around the connecting door. Weldon was showering so Kelvin caught the moment between Lissa's consciousness and unconsciousness. Winkler bent down and placed a careful kiss on Lissa's forehead before covering her completely with the sheet, blanket and comforter.
"You know how many germs are on that comforter?" Kelvin asked, watching Winkler perform this duty.
"And she's not susceptible to a single one of them," Winkler said. "Just like us, pretty much."
"Werewolves still get diseases when they're old," Kelvin pointed out. "Arthritis. Cancer, sometimes."
"I've never heard of that happening unless we're over two hundred," Winkler said, handing Kelvin a cursory glance.
"Well, me either. I see you've done your research."
"Yep. And we generally don't live long after we reach two hundred anyway."
"But the vamps, they don't get anything, ever. Do they?" Kelvin came over, reached under the covers until he found one of Lissa's arms and checked her pulse. "Nothing," he said.
"It's like that when she's awake, too," Winkler frowned at Kelvin, who placed Lissa's arm beneath the blanket. "No heartbeat—nothing. My father always said they had some sort of metabolism, but it's nothing like humans or werewolves."
"But they breathe when they're awake. This just fascinates me." Kelvin heard Weldon coming out of the shower next door. "Time to keep the Grand Master happy," Kelvin said and walked through the connecting door.