The Loup Garou Society by Julie Steimle (ereader with android txt) 📖

in from the airport earlier. There was another driver though. This one had rushed out and quickly opened the door—another wolf. Rick could smell it on him.

“So, Margarete told you,” Remy said, urging him into the open door.

Rick nodded, his eyes resting on the bridge across the street. “Yeah. Last night on the roof.”

Remy’s eyes widened. “She talked to you on the roof?”

Nodding more, Rick raised his eyebrows. “Well, yeah. That’s when we exchanged phone numbers.”

“She didn’t try to push you off?” Henri asked, looking to Remy for confirmation.

But Remy closed his eyes, recalling a previous conversation. “She wasn’t able to.”

“I have a better balance than she does,” Rick said. Then he chuckled, just as the Eiffel Tower wolf also nudged for him to get into the car. Rolling his eyes, he ducked in his head and examined the interior before moving. His eyes fixed on the opposite door latch and the lock. It wasn’t locked. He peeked once at the wolves behind him.

As he was heading in, Henri, grabbed his shoulder. “Oh no. I saw that. I’m going in first.”

“Pour quoi?” Eiffel Tower wolf exclaimed, looking around.

“He had his eye on the door handle.” Henri climbed in, scooting over the seat almost as if he were posing in a fashion magazine. He pressed the lock down. His arm draped over the back seat, beckoning Rick in after him. “He would have climbed right out again.”

Rick made a face. Apparently his other brother wasn’t stupid either.

Remy broke into a snicker, covering his mouth. Of course Rick would have gone right through the car if he could. The car would have made a great barrier for them, giving him a head start in escape.

The Eiffel Tower wolf glowered, then shoved Rick to go in.

Rick held back, glaring at him. “Push me again, and I’ll bite you.”

Like someone hit with electric shock, that wolf stepped back, eyes wide on him. Rick could see an innate fear, which apparently that wolf had been suppressing. A fear of Deacon blood.

Remy, however, stepped in and patted Rick firmly on the back, urging him inside, not afraid. Then again, he was Rick’s brother by blood.

Crawling into the car, Rick clenched his teeth and sat down. There was no escaping now. One brother on one side, and the more tenacious brother on the other, they were both bigger and stronger than him. And unfortunately, they were obedient to the Loup Garou.

The car rolled into traffic, driving along the Seine. It was a beautiful view. In most other circumstances, Rick would have been enchanted by it, especially how the sunlight danced on it. However, he was no mood to admire the scenery.

Sighing, Rick wondered what would happen next. Would the Loup Garou attempt once again to force him into impregnating the females of their pack? Because this fiasco had already gone too far. And he already had a discussion with their French lawyer—who thankfully spoke fluent English. However, Rick was contemplating calling Tom Brown who currently was training with the CIA. Tom had a way of helping out a long distances, as long as mischief was involved. The problem was, Tom was probably out on a training mission. And his cell phone could be off. Tom had been disconnected lately as the CIA was working hard to control him. Of course, Rick doubted they would ever succeed. Tom was always one step ahead, as he could hear all the nasty temptations that went through their minds, being half-imp.

“So… Margarete told you about all of us,” Henri said after a stretch of silence.

Rick nodded. “Yep.”

Henri huffed, shaking his head. “What did she say, exactly?”

Gazing at him and his I’m-too-sexy-for-this-shirt look, Rick said, “That the Loup Garou is forcing you to impregnate as many she-wolves as possible.”

Henri’s Adonis-like face contorted to disdain. “I’m not forced.”

Rick cringed, leaning away from him. “Do you have no shame at all?”

Remy lifted his eyebrows, saying nothing.

“Ha!” Henri peered hard at him. “So speaks the spoiled—”

“Oh, please,” Rick rolled his eyes and slumping his shoulders. “I’m not reveling in a playboy lifestyle. Most of the time I am busy studying.”

“Except your French,” Remy muttered with a chuckle.

Rick shot him a look, his cheeks flushing a little.

“My life is my life,” Henri said, his voice rich with almost smug drawl. “And I have no reason to be ashamed. I am man of passion. And not some repressed little American pup.”

“They are using you,” Rick snapped, shaking his head. “Aren’t you even curious as to what kids you might have brought into this world?”

Remy glanced at his brother, also waiting for his response.

“Aren’t you worried your children will hate you for the same reason Margarete and Genevieve hated Dad?” Rick asked. He was appalled really that Henri didn’t seem to care.

Remy angled his head back with a look to Henri that asked the same question.

“Oh… don’t you look at me like that,” Henri said, seeing Remy’s looks. “You are their attack dog. You do everything they tell you to do.”

“Except wantonly sire children,” Remy murmured.

Bristling, Henri straightened up. “How dare you! I am the only one besides Louisa who is completely in line with the wishes of the pack. I am following what the goddess wishes.”

Hearing that, Rick groaned loudly, setting his head in his hands. He was sick of this talk about that goddess. It was their excuse for everything. And it didn’t even match up with the legends of Diana—who was a virgin goddess for pity’s sake who protected young girls from men like him.

“Be quiet, heretic,” Henri snapped. “You know nothing of the goddess.”

Lifting his dry-eyes to him, Rick replied, “Why don’t you just call me infidel and get it over with. I am not a heretic. Our family were never believers in this goddess. Our grandfather was a wolf.”

Both brothers stared at him, not exactly comprehending that last statement.

Sighing heavily, Rick sat back in the seat and said, almost reciting, “I know the name of the witch who transformed our grandfather from a common gray wolf into a human being. I even know who he was sent to assassinate.”

They stared more.

“Blasphemy,” Henri muttered.

“Who did he assassinate?” Remy asked.

Of course Remy would be the reasonable one. Rick met his gaze and replied, “He was a deacon in the Catholic church. He lived in Worchester, Massachusetts. His name was Richard Howard Gannon. He was a friend of Lemuel Gulinger who was also a priest there. Richard Gannon had offended a witch from my town. I don’t know how or why. But that doesn’t really matter. When a witch is offended, you end up with a target on your head.”

“Nonsense,” Henri said. He had the disgusted look of a person mentally plugging his ears. “Lies.”

“Grandpa took on his name, flipped it to Howard Richard at the request of Lemuel Gulinger—whom I have met and who had helped our grandfather turn his life around as he was stuck being part human and was in a wretched state.” Rick lowered his eyes to his seat. “He took the name Deacon because of the title of the man he assassinated for the witch. Pastor Gulinger told me all about my grandfather, the lost wolf.”

“That can’t be true,” Henri said, though he looked more shocked than doubtful. “It can’t be.”

Lifting his eyes to him again, Rick said, “What would I gain from telling you lies about our family?”

“To draw us away from Diana,” Henri retorted.

Moaning, Rick shook his head. “If I wanted to draw you away from some pagan goddess, I wouldn’t be talking about grandpa. I have plenty of better resources for that sort of thing.”

“Do you?” Remy asked, his voice gone cold.

Turning to face him, Rick said, “If I could transfer all the things I have witnessed in my short existence into your brain, I think you’d have a stroke. But yes, I do.”

“You think you are more experienced than we are?” Remy bit out.

“I know I am,” Rick said without a trace of pride. It was painful fact. He didn’t want all the experiences he had had.

Remy laughed, shaking his head. He looked out the window at the passing street.  

“You may be older than me,” Rick continued, “and you may have a college education for all I know, but I have been all over the world…”

Henri and Remy shared a look. It was weary and closed-minded. They were done listening.

“…and I have had contact with all sorts of people,” Rick said. “And I have kept an open mind that possibly I don’t know everything. Have you?”

The brothers shared looks again. Henri spoke first.

“We have our duty to our pack.”

“We don’t have your fortune.”

Rick rolled his eyes. “Yes… My fortune…”

“You take it for granted.” Remy peered at him, not just annoyed, but disgusted.

“No,” Rick growled back, rather peevish. “I don’t. It is a burden. A huge responsibility.”

Lifting his eyebrows, Henri did not seem to believe it. But Remy looked thoughtful once more.

“I have to be circumspect,” Rick said with bite. “No mistakes. Ever. Which is near impossible. And as the future CEO of Deacon Enterprises, I have make sure the company is run right, rather than run into the ground by our quaestuarius board of directors.”

“What kind of board of directors?” Henri stared at him, looking quickly to Remy for a translation.

Remy shook his head. He had no idea.

Moaning, Rick wearily said, “Quaestuarius. It means mercenary in money making. It was an SAT vocabulary word, right next to egregious on the test I took last week.”

They stared.

“Look,” Rick said, “I am not going to cooperate with the pack. I am not going to get any she-wolves pregnant for you. So you might as well take me back to the hotel.”

“We are taking you to back to headquarters,” Remy said.

Rick tossed up his hands and slumped in his seat. Of course they were.

“The council of elders wishes to speak with you,” Remy added.

Gazing at him then Henri, Rick thought for a moment, then said, “They wish to appeal to my reason?”

Henri nodded. Remy sighed, averting his eyes.

“…Or blackmail me in some way,” Rick continued.

They both stared at him. It wasn’t shock. It was more like they were reassessing him and his comprehension of his situation.

“I know they use blackmail,” Rick said. He shook his head. “I’ve been thinking it over and over. Dad can handle a scandal. It happened when Mom divorced him and started telling my grandparents I had turned into a wolf.”

They stared more, eyes wider. They had not known that last part, apparently.

“Grandma and Grandpa Richardson thought my mom had gone insane and had put her into an asylum,” Rick muttered, his mind going back to the time he found out, which had been months after the event. He had discovered it accidentally, another secret his father had kept from him. “And she promptly broke out.”

Remy pulled back, surprised. Henri looked like Rick had swatted him with his shoe.

“We have no idea where she is right now,” Rick said, shaking his head. “And the news of it all was all over the gossip magazines. Dad can handle scandal… but I realize he is worried to death about my mother. Is she ok?” He then looked to his brothers. “The only blackmail that would keep Dad in line is what the Loup Garou might do to you.”

Henri paled. He looked to Remy who closed his eyes. Henri reached over the back of the car seat and grabbed Remy’s shoulder. “You knew? The pack is using us against him?”

With such a cringe, Remy nodded. “Yes.”

Henri slapped Remy on the ear. “You idiot! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Rolling his eyes, Remy gazed dryly at Henri. “What was there to say? You had accepted the life they handed to you. You and Louisa. They coddled and sheltered you as the perfect ones. Did you not see how they treated Marie? Or Genevieve and Margarete? They always threatened them with expulsion from the pack and therefore the goddess’s favor. Why couldn’t the elders have just sent them back to their