Imprudence (The Custard Protocol #2)(28)

Lady Maccon stepped in. “Biffy, darling, let me explain.”

Uncle Rabiffano glanced briefly at her. “Oh, I can guess what is going on. Not the particulars, but I know why this is happening.”

He turned his back on Rue’s mother, pointedly, and she winced.

Rue’s jaw dropped, and because she was a wolf, her tongue lolled out. No one, no one dismissed Lady Maccon. Certainly not Uncle Rabiffano. They were friends. Good friends, Rue had thought.

Uncle Rabiffano faced Lord Maccon, fighting stance now, not dancer’s. “You’ve trained me up. I’m not going to be any more ready. It’s time to let go.”

Paw looked sad and militant at the same time.

Uncle Rabiffano tossed back a lock of hair. He had been made werewolf shortly before Rue was born. She wasn’t familiar with the particulars – no one liked to talk about it – but there was some scandal surrounding his metamorphosis. But it still meant he must be at least forty years old. Yet, in that brief moment, he looked exceedingly young and frightened.

He confronted her Paw. Her mortal Paw, as if… what?

Rue struggled to understand. As if he intends to challenge for leadership.

Uncle Rabiffano took a breath to steady his tone, and spoke again – low and level, strong and clear. Stage training perhaps, or a singer? Rue didn’t know what his art had been. She didn’t know anything about Uncle Rabiffano before he became Uncle Rabiffano.

“I don’t want to fight you, Conall.”

First names. Equal footing.

Paw lifted his head. Anger slashed red across his cheeks.

What is going on? What is Uncle Rabiffano doing? It hummed as a litany through Rue’s brain.

“You promised I wouldn’t have to fight you.” Uncle Rabiffano’s words vibrated with both power and pleading. “You promised this would be a smooth transition. I don’t know if I’m ready. You don’t know. They don’t know. But that is irrelevant to the fact that you must let us go now. You can’t hold them any more. And you can’t stop me from wanting. I can feel the tethers fraying. It’s not only you who will go mad – it’s all of us. Don’t you see that? I’m compelled to stop it. I will fight you for it, because it’s no longer an option. It’s stupid, and it’s brutish, but it’s instinct. And you were the one who taught me to accept instinct.”

Perhaps it was because Rue held his shape, but Paw didn’t react in the way she thought he would. Uncle Rabiffano’s words were a direct attack that no normal Alpha would tolerate. But Paw remained standing quietly before him. Yes, he looked angry but he also looked abashed.

I don’t like this, wailed Rue to herself.

Sensing her distress, Quesnel’s hand returned to her head. He didn’t pet her this time, simply rested it there.

Paw didn’t notice. He was focused on Uncle Rabiffano.

Mother didn’t notice either. She was focused on Paw.

The pack sat, still as stone, waiting.

It was as though the world held its breath; even the sounds of London faded.

Then Uncle Rabiffano changed. Not to werewolf form, not completely. No, only his head shifted. Above his perfectly tied cravat and starched white collar, above the dapper grey suit with its smooth lapel, his sweet boyish face became a dark wolf’s head.

Anubis form. Rue had seen her father do it. But that means…

Quesnel’s gasp cut into the silence.

Only Alphas have Anubis form. Rue stared, riveted, dumbfounded. Anubis was for bite to breed; it was Alpha’s gift to go with the curse. It was rare even so. Paw had Anubis. And Lady Kingair. And, Rue thought, mind drifting in shock, three other Alphas in England that she knew of but not Uncle Rabiffano. He was Paw’s Beta. He was Beta by feeling too: calm and relaxed and easy-going. Always there to foil his Alpha, to balance the pack. Except, of course, that Uncle Rabiffano hadn’t been. Not really. He’d simply been in the background and then off to his hat shop.

No, Rue realised, Mother had done the calming and the balancing, as much as she was able.

“You’re an Alpha.” Quesnel sounded as shocked as Rue felt.

Uncle Rabiffano inclined his wolf head slightly, so as not to disturb his collar points.

Out of the corner of one eye, Rue saw her mother do something awful. She stepped towards Uncle Rabiffano, establishing alliance.

“It’s time, Conall. He’s right. No more waiting. I can’t handle it, literally. And it’s too much to ask of our daughter.”

Rue felt Quesnel’s hand lift as everyone’s attention focused on her. The top of her head, despite the fur, felt cold.

Uncle Rabiffano spoke again, through his lupine mouth. Rue supposed that with the rest of him still human, speech was possible. It was peculiar-sounding, though, echoing and deep, not like his normal voice at all. “Conall, look at what this is doing to your family. To your pack. I don’t want to cry challenge, but I will if you can’t leave on your own.”

Paw seemed confused, indignant, and frustrated all at once. And betrayed, because his wife was standing against him. Rue had known her parents to argue – in fact, they seemed to enjoy it – but they had never in her life failed to present a unified front to the rest of the world.

Rue couldn’t decide what to do. Should she rush her mother, make skin contact with a preternatural to break the tether? That would give her father his supernatural abilities back and a fighting chance, as erratic and dangerous as that would make him.