Page 82 of Protection of the Pack

Her bills made me wince, but I tried hard not to show it. ‘Sure. Best get to it, then. Have you managed to find anything else about 3418?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she said curtly. ‘The books I have checked are all in order. Your supplier isn’t a witch.’

‘You’re saying it’s from the Connection?’

She shrugged. ‘They’re the only others who are licensed to hold it. Other than that, there’s the black market.’

I bit my thumb. ‘So, 3418 is a dead end.’

Amber gestured to Archie. ‘We’re here for him,’ she reminded me. ‘First he needs to transform, then he needs to give himself wholly over to the wolf.’

Archie spoke. ‘And then Lucy will pipe him?’

Greg raised an eyebrow at me. ‘I thought we were keeping your piping skills on the down low?’

‘We were – are. I just told Archie and Liam. And Amber knows already – because of the thing with the ouroboros.’

‘Sure,’ he said evenly.

Archie stood. ‘I’ll get my kit off, shall I?’

‘No time like the present,’ I agreed.

He slithered out of his clothes and started to transform. It took him a good few minutes; watching the transformation made me thank my lucky stars once more that Esme and I were so far from ordinary by werewolf standards.

Whilst waiting for Archie, Amber had pulled out various jars of gloop from her ever-present tote bag, along with her paintbrushes and disposable gloves. Someone – I assumed Mrs Dawes – had already supplied her with a fancy-looking bowl of water. I’d never seen someone scry before, but Jess had told me it hurt like a bitch.

Archie was finally on four legs, but he was unnaturally still. ‘Archie,’ I called out. He swung to look at me. ‘You’re supposed to be letting Fred take control.’

He blinked again. We waited for a long minute before finally his eyes turned golden yellow.

‘Hey, Fred,’ I said, as I gathered my piping powers from within me. Fred was looking a little on the wild side, so I decided not to risk my hand by touching him and instead hummed out a little tune, ‘The Grand Old Duke of York’. The strains of the music touched his ears and transported my magic with them. I felt a loose connection form between us.

Hey, Fred,I greeted him warmly.

Hello, alpha,he responded cautiously.He has let me have control again.His voice was bemused.

I winced a little. Fred probably wasn’t going to be too impressed when I explained about the scrying thing.I have brought the witch back.I gestured to Amber.

She saved our lives. She has nothing to fear from me.

She wishes to scry an image from your head. Archie cannot remember his attacker. The drugs he was given have wiped his memory.

Yes, I understand. I have been present throughout the planning.

Then you get that this is going to hurt?

What is pain to a wolf? The hunt must succeed or we will become prey again. We are not prey.The last thought was growled out, both in my mind and out loud.

Amber swallowed hard at the vicious noise and I took perverse delight in her discomfort. She wasn’t as cool as she made out. ‘Fred is on board with the plan,’ I told her. ‘He understands that it will hurt, but he doesn’t want to be attacked again. He is willing for you to try to scry from him.’

Amber nodded and snapped on purple disposable gloves. She opened one of the Kilner jars and dipped her paintbrush in some dark-blue stuff. Even to my human nose, it stank.

I’m sorry, it smells bad,I apologised to Fred.

Like the rancid corpse of a ferret,he agreed, his nose wrinkling in distaste. He let out an audible growl and Amber paused, her eyes wide.

Are you okay for her to put that on you?I double-checked.

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