Inside Out. Amy Lee Burgess
turn around,” he told me.
“No. No, just drive fast. I’ll close my eyes.”
I’m not a coward, I told myself, even though I was pretty sure I was.
With my eyes shut, I felt the car accelerate then, a moment later Murphy said, “It’s okay. We’re nearly there, Stanzie.”
“Where is there?” I asked. My black blouse clung to my ribcage like a sodden second skin. The car’s interior was flooded with the unattractive sour scent of my fear.
Paddy was half turned in the passenger bucket so he could keep me in sight. Pack don’t like to turn their backs on people who smell of terror. They were too unpredictable. Even in human form.
“The forest,” Murphy answered. Up ahead I saw the maple trees thin out to reveal a small dirt lot crammed with cars. Most of Maplefair could have made it here on foot from their houses. The cars belonged to people from other packs. Bethany’s funeral would be a big one.
Murphy parked between a light blue Toyota Camry and a forest green Jaguar that looked all too familiar—Kathy Manning’s car.
Terror had left my legs weak and rubbery. I had no idea if I would be able to walk.
“Jesus Christ, I’m more scared now than I was when I woke up chained to that fucking gurney. What in the hell is wrong with me?” I pressed my clammy forehead to the window and wished I could bash through the glass with my stupid skull.
“You’ve had time to think about it,” Murphy told me. “But Nate Carver is dead, Stanzie. Your wolf killed him. He can’t harm you or anyone else anymore.”
Simple statement. Obvious. Nothing I didn’t already know. But it helped.
I closed my fingers around the door handle and pulled.
The parking lot smelled of dirt, oil, metal and trees. I stood in the dappled sunlight flanked by Murphy and Paddy. Several other people gathered nearby. I recognized members of Maplefair, Snowmoon, Nightclaw, Darkhunt, Wolfsong, Liberty and Riverglow—all New England packs.
Snowmoon was a Vermont-based pack like Maplefair. Darkhunt was Rhode Island—Kathy Manning’s pack. Wolfsong was the premiere pack from Maine, Liberty was the New Hampshire pack, Nightclaw and Riverglow, of course, were from Connecticut. There was no sign of anyone from the Massachusetts pack, Mayflower. My birth pack. I would have been shocked if there had been. Mayflower was the oldest pack in New England, but notoriously private. They rarely attended Regional Gatherings and never outside funerals.
When people recognized me, they offered me strange smiles. They had no clue what to say to me. Congratulations on killing the bastard? So glad the tribunal didn’t put you to death? Guess your defective wolf came in handy after all? It was better to say nothing.
Councilor Kathy Manning was the only one who came over to me and shocked the hell out of me with a fierce embrace. She smelled of floral perfume and the gold highlights in her pixie-short brown hair gleamed in the sunlight.
“No one knows what to say to you,” she said in a voice loud enough that it carried.
Beside me, Murphy made a strangled noise that sounded more like laughter than a cough. He and Kathy had never quite figured out whether they liked one another.
“Maybe people are overwhelmed by all the Councilors,” Rosemary Young, of the Great Council, remarked as she sauntered over. “People do tend to become tongue tied the more there are of us in one place.”
Where ten seconds ago there had been empty space, now five Councilors stood ranged around me. In addition to Kathy and Rosemary, now there were also Councilors Hill, Perkins and Allerton. Save for Allerton and Young, they were all from the New England Regional Council. Allerton and Young, of course, represented the Great Pack itself.
Allerton put a proprietary hand on my shoulder. As usual, he wore a tailored designer suit. Today it was black pinstripe. His aristocratically handsome face was somber. Although Kathy was his mistress, in public they maintained a formal distance, but I’d seen the quick flash of affection in Allerton’s blue eyes when he’d looked at her as he’d made his way over to us.
Power thrummed around us all.
A robin called from the branches of one of the maple trees and another answered from a few trees away.
Tires crunched on the dirt parking lot and, if it had been silent before, it suddenly became hushed. The car was an older SUV driven by my friend and former pack mate, Vaughn Pelletier. Jossie Wilbanks, Nate Carver’s ex-bond mate and current Alpha of Maplefair, sat beside him in the passenger bucket. The SUV stopped just short of where we were all gathered and the back door slid open.
Gina Dillon and Ron Bradley, Bethany’s parents, stumbled out, followed by Cody Brown, his parents and his twin brother, Kyle. Cody had been Bethany’s boyfriend. He was devastated. The sleeves of his suit jacket were too short—he’d obviously grown a couple of inches since it had been purchased—but the waist band of the matching trousers was loose.
The grief that poured out of him combined with that of Bethany’s parents and nearly drove me to my knees. If not for the steady pressure of Allerton’s hand on my shoulder, I would have crashed through the underbrush and run away.
Gina Dillon held a small white urn in her shaky hands. She’d cried so much over the past day and a half that her eyes were puffy and so bloodshot I couldn’t tell the color of her irises. She wore a plain black dress and sensible flats. We had to hike through the forest, after all. None of the women wore pumps, although most wore skirts or dresses. Boots were the most popular footwear choice for men and women alike.
Ron Bradley kept an arm around his bond mate’s shoulders. His eyes were red-rimmed and puffy from crying.
Jossie had her hair piled on top of her head and it made her look almost regal. Her face was dreadfully pale and she wore no makeup. Dressed in an old black sheath dress that was five years out of style, she carried if off as if it were the latest fashion.
Vaughn stood beside her as she looked at all of us.
“I think we can start now,” she said. She and Vaughn would become bond mates today after the funeral. Together, they would continue as Alphas of Maplefair. The entire pack was behind this mating and Jossie’s continued Alpha status. No one blamed her for Nate’s criminal actions.
As Alpha, she led the way, followed closely by Vaughn then Gina, Ron, Cody, Kyle and their parents. After that, the Councilors were given the opportunity to follow. Paddy, as an Alpha, had the right to fall in behind them.
Since this was a larger gathering made up of members of several different packs, it was more formal than if it had just been Maplefair.
Murphy and I went behind Paddy, and the others sorted out their ranks and made a single line behind us.
No one spoke as we walked the forest trail. Sticks and leaves crunched underfoot, and a curious robin kept pace with us for nearly a mile. He flitted from tree to tree and cocked his head so he could fix us with his bright black eyes. Most birds were afraid of us, but this one’s curiosity got the better of him.
So I wouldn’t have to think, I watched him and silently begged him not to abandon us and fly off. As long as he kept pace with us, I could focus on him and not the grief that surrounded us like a shimmering miasma or the muted sobs of Bethany’s mother as she carried her daughter’s ashes through the woods.
The thirty-five minutes it took to scatter Bethany’s ashes were among the worst in my life. Too many of us stood in the traditional circle to each take a turn to say something and toss a handful of ashes, so only her parents, Jossie and Cody stepped inside the ring to the center where the urn was placed.
I kept my gaze fixed to the tips of my black boots so there was no chance I would be offered a chance to speak. My throat was so tight I could barely suck down enough air to keep upright, so there was no way I could have said anything.
Besides,