“I’m walking right there,” Lulu said, and pointed to the shoreline. “If any large monsters appear in the darkness, you have my permission to rescue me.”
Alexei watched her walk away. “What’s her problem?”
“You’re assuming she can’t handle herself, for one,” I said. “Because trust us—she can.”
When he opened his mouth to object, I held up a hand. “I know you meant well, but until we figure out what’s going on, we’re all vulnerable to attack. Theo told her what’s happening here, and she’ll take care of herself. But she won’t sit in a cabin and wait it out any more than we would.”
“This isn’t a fight you’re going to win,” Connor said, and clapped Alexei on the back.
“She’s being illogical,” Alexei said.
“She’s an artist,” I told him with a smile. “Get used to it. If you want to stand guard, go for it. But I wouldn’t let her see you.”
Alexei looked back. “Maybe I’ll just stand on the patio.”
“Good luck and godspeed,” I said, squeezing his arm.
“With that topic closed,” Theo said hopefully, “you should come in.” He climbed the stairs back into the vehicle.
“Is the clan going to give you trouble about the RV?” I asked Connor as we followed him.
“Probably. But we’ll handle it. I want them close by.”
“Because you want to keep an eye on them?”
“Pretty much,” he said with a smile. “They’re helpful and kind and capable. But they aren’t shifters. We’re all in enemy territory, relatively speaking. I’m sorry that it’s come to that, but that’s where we are.”
I was sorry, too. Not just for us, but for him, as someone who loved the Pack, Cassie and Wes, whose child’s initiation would always be scarred by the memory of what had happened afterward, and for those who disagreed with Cash, who’d apparently had no way to argue or to correct their situation.
“It smells like feet and Cheetos in here,” Connor said.
“The RV already smelled like feet. Cheetos are my driving fuel,” Theo said. “And Eleanor of Aquitaine’s been stealing them and hiding them around the RV.”
But for the smell, the vehicle’s interior was nice. Burled wood and pale leather, and fancier than I’d have thought the city of Chicago would spring for.
A lot fancier.
I looked at Theo, narrowed my gaze. “This was in the OMB budget?”
“What’s that, now?”
There was further narrowing until my eyes were suspicious slits. “Theo, did my parents pay for this RV?”
“No,” he said. “Of course they didn’t pay for it. They just, you know, contributed a little.”
I just looked at him.
“Some,” he amended.
I lifted my eyebrows.
“Okay, most of it.” At my narrowed stare, he held up his hands. “Not my call or my doing. Your father and Yuen talked. And then I talked to Connor and passed that along, and decisions were made.”
I sighed, both appreciative my family had wanted to help and irritated that they thought I’d gotten into something that required a rescue team.
“I think this would be a good time to show our worth,” Theo said. He slid into the small dinette, began to work a tablet. “You there, Petra?”
“I’m here!” We heard her voice first, then her torso began to shimmer in midair in front of the table.
“Augmented reality features,” Theo said, gesturing to her floating head. “The RV is loaded.”
“Petra is a tech whiz,” I said, and offered a wave. “Hello, Petra.”
“Hello, Elisa and Theo and Connor and Eleanor of Aquitaine.”
The cat jumped onto the counter opposite the dinette, tried to paw at Petra’s image.
“I know, pretty girl. I miss you, too.”
Eleanor of Aquitaine meowed coyly.
“You’re friends?” I asked, staring between them.
“Of course,” Petra said, shifting her gaze back to us. “Are you not?”
I had to work not to show fang.
“All righty,” Petra said. “I have a mediation later tonight—the sedan did not survive its dunking in the Chicago River—so let’s get this going.”
“Did you find anything about the symbol?” Connor asked.
“Of course. Its source and possibly some of the explanation for what you’re seeing.” She glanced down at Theo. “If you would?”
“Sure,” he said, and swiveled the tablet on the table to face us. On its screen was an image of the symbol I’d found on the shutters, the lines jagged and cut into what looked like gold.
“A carving?” Connor asked.
“A signet ring,” Petra said, and the image zoomed out, showing a gold ring with a round flat top on which the symbol had been carved. The ring looked like an antique, but not an antiquity.
“How old?” I asked.
“This ring is from the nineteen sixties,” she said. “From a cult called the Sons of Aeneas, Aeneas being the heroic ancestor of Romulus and Remus, the twin founders of Rome.”
“And suckled by a she-wolf,” Connor said, and she nodded.
“And they supposedly took in all the power of the wolf in that process,” Petra said.
“That explains the ‘RR’ on the ring,” I said, sitting on the sofa across from the table. “What was the cult about?”
“The group was started in the nineteen forties during World War Two. A quartet of friends from New York was about to ship off to some really hairy fighting in France. Someone made a joke about how they needed to be heroic and strong like wolves, and they started the club. All but one of them survived the war, and when they came back, they formalized the group.”
“And how did it become a cult?” Theo asked.
“Evolution,” Petra said. “The original founders died, and you add in a little gang warfare, a little cocaine, and a social club becomes something a lot darker. Instead of just using the wolf as a symbol, they start to worship wolves. And it spreads across the country. Local dens start to open up. They pretend to be just another fraternal society, something like the Freemasons, and they put on a good face about charitable works and community service, and maybe that was true in some of the dens. But not everywhere.”