The Loup Garou Society, Julie Steimle [reading tree txt] 📗

eyebrows just the slightest bit raised.

Henri and Remy stared together, not sure what this meant. They both gazed across the room at Rick whom they were starting to understand had, in a way, allowed himself to get caught and brought to the Loup Garou headquarters.

“It is worse than that,” the other wolf said, shooting daggers with eyes at Rick. “Marie’s home is also vacant. They never came back. And their photographs are gone, cell phone at home.”

Henri and Remy exchanged looks. Something like hope formed on their faces. Their sisters had been freed. All except Louisa.

“Impossible,” Monsieur Blanc muttered. He then looked up at Rick. “You. You did this.”

“It was my pleasure,” Rick openly grinned.

The French werewolf bristled.

“You stole—”

“Freed,” Rick corrected. “I was just rescuing them from slavery. What you did was immoral.”

“It was for the greater good,” Monsieur Blanc snapped back. “For the good of the pack!”

“That’s a load of crap.” Rick’s hair stood on end as if his hackles were raising.

The Loup Garou stepped back from him. They eyed his father, who remained cool and quiet—watchful in his wildness, and proud of his son.

“That’s a line tyrants use to justify their brutality.” Rick looked like he would go all wolf and tear their throats out with his teeth. “You were making a profit off of us! Also off my sisters and brothers!”

“Silence, savage,” Monsieur Blanc said. “Ours is a centuries old pack with traditions that secure—”

Rick huffed. “You’re nothing more than lost werewolves thinking yourselves as gods. And you don’t care whom you bully.”

“That’s enough, son,” his father said.

Rick looked up to him, shocked.

But is father’s amber eyes said volumes. They were in enemy territory, and they had just sent away their allies. And despite informing the pack that the Holy Seven knew where they were and whom they were among, it was not wise to provoke the wolf in his territory. Wolves forgot themselves and lost their senses in such instances. 

“That’s right,” Monsieur Blanc said. “Leash your little pup. He has done enough damage.”

Mr. Deacon raised his chin, snorting.

The white man-wolf pulled back, staring at him. “He has wreaked havoc!”

“I wouldn’t quite call it havoc,” Mr. Deacon coolly said. Rick would have said something, but his father placed his hand on the back of his neck—not a choke, but a reminder

 “You should have prepared your son before binging him to us!” Monsieur Blanc shouted.

“I have,” replied Mr. Deacon.

Monsieur Blanc bristled. “Well, you didn’t do well enough!”

Smiling icily, almost benevolently—as they could not be sure with his amber gaze, Mr. Deacon said, “You mistake me, gentlemen and ladies. I did prepare him… so he could do this. I never wanted you to manipulate him. So refused to bring him until I knew he could withstand you. And he has done marvelously.”

Peering up at his father, Rick smiled. His father did not throw away compliments.

Mr. Deacon then turned toward his two older sons, his gaze was apologetic, almost begging, “You can come with us too, if you want?”

“We will sue you for kidnapping,” hissed Monsieur Blanc advancing on him.

Ignoring him, Mr. Deacon said to Henri and Remy, “I can supply you with protection and an education if you wish. You can leave of your own free will.”

His amber eyes tracked both young men, truly begging this time.

Monsieur Blanc growled. “If you do this, you and all that is connected to your blood will be regarded as pariah, as blasphemers—”

“Why don’t you just say infidel and get it over with?” Rick muttered.

Monsieur Blanc ignored him. “You will lose the blessings of goddess.”

Rick watched his brothers carefully, hoping to free at least one more. But seeing their postures, Rick knew it was hopeless. Henri flustered, pulling back to the Loup Garou while muttering “The goddess is the moon. The moon guides the hunt. She is the source of all life.” While Remy sadly retreated next to Monsieur Mbulu, shaking his head. His eyes rested on Rick, thanking him, yet without words saying he could not leave.

“Why not?” Rick whispered under his breath.

Remy mouthed, “Louisa.”

Of course. That was the reason Remy stayed with the pack. For his family. Louisa was still in their control. If he left, what would happen to her? Would the pack punish her if they left? Probably.

Rick looked to Henri, and realized that it was also a possible reason for him to stay.

Mr. Deacon closed his eyes, sighing.

“So, you see…” Monsieur Blanc turned to face Mr. Deacon, ignoring Rick. “They have chosen.”

But Mr. Deacon gazed on his two sons, chin level. “The offer is always open, if you ever change your mind.”

Remy nodded, which surprised the Loup Garou.

Henri just stared, almost longingly. But he remained where he was, reciting that mantra.

The room filled with thick silence. There was nothing else that could be said between them. The elders pulled back. Henri requested to leave and was granted permission, while also given an escort to make sure he did not do anything ‘foolish’. Mr. Deacon sadly watched him go. Remy remained, standing almost like an attachment to the event, refusing to be dislodged from him. His eyes watched his father intently, and Rick. 

After a hushed discussion between the elders of the Loup Garou on one side of the room, Rick and his father waiting on the other like a king and his son, immoveable and unconquerable, the pack finally declared their position.

“Until you return Margarete, Genevieve, and Marie with her children to us, we will no longer continue to do business with Deacon Enterprises,” Monsieur Blanc said.

“Done.” Mr. Deacon walked toward the door, leading his son along.

Rick was impressed.

The Loup Garou looked confused, watching them wait for the doormen to open the doors or get out of their way.

“Done as in you will promptly return them?” Madame Freyna said.

Shaking his head, Mr. Deacon replied, “No. Done, as in we will no longer do business with the Loup Garou.”

He pulled against the doors. Rick helped, nodding to his father as he stepped aside to let him through.

“Not acceptable!” shouted Madame Freyna.

“You set the terms,” Mr. Deacon replied coolly. “I was merely agreeing.”

“Personally, I see it as a win-win,” Rick interjected.

The French wolves rounded on him. “How dare you—!”

“I am the heir,” straightening up, Rick snapped. “And though I won’t inheriting very soon—thank heaven—I have no desire to continue business with the Loup Garou. Especially at how you have treated my family.” He bumped past Remy, dropping something into his pocket. “Excuse me.”

He and his father marched out of the room, going down the hall.

“Do we have a car waiting?” Rick asked, glancing at his father. “Or do we have to call a taxi?”

Mr. Deacon smiled. “I prepared.”

Rick raised his eyebrows. “Including my suitcase? Because I never got it out of the car.”

“I had it fetched,” Mr. Deacon said.

Fetched meant that the Loup Garou had gotten them. Rick could only imagine the argument that must have occurred for his father to have gathered up the suitcases and retrieved his. It was clear his father had planned for a hasty exit.

“This discussion is not over!” Monsieur Blanc shouted from the doorway.

“It is,” Mr. Deacon replied.

“You will pay for this!” Monsieur Blanc shouted.

Halting, Mr. Deacon turned around. He narrowed his eyes. Yet he said, “Our relationship has been a mutually protective one. You cannot threaten me without threatening your pack also. You forget I am hunted every month, and I am skilled at surviving. But what you don’t seem to understand is that I have kept the secret of the Loup Garou from the Supernatural Regulator’s Association all these years. But what if I were to let it slip?”

Monsieur Blanc paled.

“You’d better pray really hard to your goddess for protection if that were to ever happen.” Mr. Deacon then turned back around and marched out of the building.

Sure enough, a car was waiting.

It was one of their own—non-Loup Garou.

Rick climbed in the back seat as soon as the hired driver opened the door. His father followed.

Remy jogged out of the building after them. “Father?”

Pulling back out, Mr. Deacon turned around, looking to the hesitant French werewolf. It seemed to require strength for Remy to cover the rest of the distance, but he did, taking the hand of Mr. Deacon in his two hands. His eyes raked over Mr. Deacon’s wolfish gaze. “I…”

“I am so sorry,” Mr. Deacon said, tears now forming. “I wanted to help, but I always make such a mess of things… even now.”

“No,” Remy said, shaking his head. He then embraced his father. “What can a singular wolf do against the pack?”

Mr. Deacon nodded, hugging Remy tight.

Rick stared out of the doorway. He smirked at first, then smiled. He had hope. Calling out, he said, “You can come with us, you know. Just climb into the car. I’m sure we can figure things out on the way.”

Remy and Mr. Deacon let go. Remy shook his head at Rick while laughing. “You wild thing. Some of us must be civilized and take our lickings.”

 “That makes no sense,” Rick said, knowing that meant Remy would stay.

Laughing more, Remy said to his father, “I guess it is the Deacon wildness in him.”

Mr. Deacon raised his eyebrows. It was probably the first he had heard that phrase. Rick was more than tired of it.

“He has a rebellious nature,” Remy explained. “Full of trouble. Which he must get from the wildness in you.”

Laughing, Mr. Deacon shook his head. “Ah, if that only were so.”

Rick rolled his eyes.

“His wildness is all his own,” his father explained. But then he added, “Because I would hate to blame it on his mother.”

“You definitely shouldn’t blame Mom,” Rick snapped. Then he looked to the watching wolves. They were converging on the vehicle as if they would tear Remy away before he decided to do as Rick had suggested. “Dad, we’d better go.”

Seeing the motion of the pack, Mr. Deacon nodded. He turned to Remy one last time. “Be well. If you ever decide to leave the pack, you know how to get a hold of me.”

He went back to the car and climbed in. Remy shut the door for them, nodding to the driver.

Before the car rolled off, Remy looked to Rick. “You are impulsive, impertinent, and incorrigible. I almost wish you were my elder brother.”

The car pulled away before Rick could respond. With chills, he stared out the back window, watching the pack converge on Remy, drawing him back to the building.

“Will he be safe?” Rick murmured as they rolled through Paris again.

His father stared forward in silence for some time.

“I hope so.”

Chuckling, Rick then sighed. “Well… he has a chance at least.”

His dad raised his eyebrows, waiting for what information Rick was withholding.

“I gave him one of the emergency bankcards with a note,” Rick said. “Hopefully he will keep it a secret.”

Nodding, his father agreed. If Remy kept it a secret, then things would eventually work out. They might be able to rescue Louisa when she wanted it. And her kids, if they ever asked for it. And who knew how many kids Henri had.

Rick closed one eye and looked to his father who appeared deep in thought. No doubt he was pondering his posterity and what he could do to help them. Rick had come on this trip thinking he was an only child, all of a sudden ending up with a huge family. And though being a werewolf still sucked, there was something surprisingly wonderful about having brothers and sisters—and nieces and nephews.

Peeking to his dad, he said, “So… grandpa. Are you gonna visit your grandkids ASAP? Or let them settle in their new home first?”

Looking to him, Mr. Deacon chuckled. He rubbed Rick on the head and painfully laughed. “We’ve gotta give them time—as we are being tracked by more than just the Loup Garou. The full moon is coming up.”

Nodding, Rick sat back in his seat. As no werewolf could outrun the full moon.