Dru

Katie's Point of View

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My father had always had a hard time staying angry with me. He was a pretty even-tempered man to begin with – he sort of had to be, working with some of our more skittish horses as he did when he wasn't off saving the world for weeks at a time – but he wasn't incapable of holding a grudge. Conner had once been grounded for an entire semester, and Dad hadn't let him off the hook even a day before final grades were due. But me? Dad could tell me no, and could certainly let me know when he was disappointed in me, but he'd never really been able to stay angry with me past the first half of a conversation. I think I reminded him too much of Mom.

…Something told me that wasn't about to save me this time, however.

For the first time in my entire life, I wondered whether my father would ever forgive me for what I'd just done – what I was still about to do.

He didn't say a word for an unsettlingly long minute, instead just staring at me from across the room as the Speaker excused himself to go retrieve some paperwork from his car. The second that the library door closed, however, he jumped to action.

"You're going to take it back," he told me rather matter-of-factly, despite the anger clearly simmering just beneath the surface. "When Antonio comes back in here, you're going to tell him you changed your mind."

I gave my head a slow shake. "No, Dad. I'm not."

"Damn it, Katelyn!" he erupted, taking a step toward me before seeming to think better of it. He turned sharply, pacing instead to the other side of the room as he shook his head and slashed a hand angrily through the air. "Do you have any idea what you just did? Do you know what you just signed yourself up for?"

He sent a harsh look my way, but I was almost certain his questions were rhetorical. I ducked my head down toward the floor.

"Did you even think for a second about what it would mean before you went ahead and blurted out that you'd do it? I know you want to be involved in Council matters, but this is not the way to go about it. You have to marry the Enforcer, Katie! Do you understand that? You're going to have to marry a goddamn werewolf!"

My head snapped right back up at that revelation, but I only lasted a few seconds before I couldn't help but tear my gaze away from my father's again. I focused on the wall as I tried to figure out exactly how to process the new information. "I thought… I'm just stepping in to the open Enforcer position… right?"

I didn't have to be looking in my father's direction to picture the utterly unimpressed expression I was sure matched his long-suffering sigh. "The position that can only be filled by the other Enforcer's wife. You know this; I taught you this! The Enforcers and Sovereigns are always married pairs!"

And shit, I had known that. I just hadn't really thought about it. My gaze stayed carefully trained on the family portrait that was hanging just a little bit off center. "…It could have just been a coincidence."

"Katelyn!"

I flinched at the tone, stealing a glance back over at my seething father and immediately regretting it. I should've known better than to try and bullshit him… and more importantly, I should've known that this arrangement would require a marriage. "You're right, okay?" I attempted to placate, voice far more steady than I expected it to be. "I didn't really stop and take the time to think it through. I can admit that. But that doesn't mean I made the wrong decision. I stand by what I said: I'll do it. I'll marry the Enforcer."

"No, you won't." There was a finality to his words that I didn't like for one second, but luckily, this wasn't something he had any actual authority over.

"You can't tell me what to do anymore, Dad," I reminded him. "I'm not a child!"

"Then stop acting like one!" he demanded. "Grow up, Katelyn. I know you want to be part of the Council, but we don't always get what we want. That's not how life works, and it's about time you come to terms with that."

I reared back as if I'd been slapped, the words stinging more than a physical blow would have. But his assessment, cutting as it might have been, did nothing but strengthen my resolve. This really was the only opportunity I'd ever have to make a difference in the world. Straightening my back and tilting up my chin, I stared down my father and tried to will him to understand. "It's not your decision."

For a moment, I was almost certain he was going to yell again, or make a few more cutting remarks about my maturity, but as he held my gaze, his posture seemed to soften ever so slightly. He changed tactics. "You're throwing your life away to make a point, Katie. Think about everything you're giving up. Forget about how dangerous this is for a moment… If you go through with this, you're throwing away your chance at happiness. Divorce isn't an option; you won't be able to marry anyone else. You won't be able to fall in love, or walk down the aisle, or have kids. Do you really want to give all of that up?"

No. I didn't.

And he was right; going along with this plan would mean giving up the chance to fall in love and have kids. I was young, and honestly I hadn't even really started to think about those things. Love, sure, but kids? I didn't know if I wanted them or not. But I did know that I wanted the chance to decide later, and that was something I would be giving up if I went through with this.

But, really, hadn't that been kind of implied from the beginning? Cannizzaro and my father had already made it perfectly clear that I'd be cut off from the rest of humanity, only meeting with Councilmembers on occasion, and otherwise surrounded only by werewolves. I'd already come to terms with that… so what did a marriage to the Enforcer really change, except a deduction on my taxes? …Which I was going to have to start doing myself, if my father wasn't going to be claiming me as a dependent anymore.

…Maybe he had a point about that whole not-being-a-real-adult-yet thing.

My father's gentle prodding drew me out of my thoughts and back to the present conversation. "You're twenty-one, Katie. You've got your whole life ahead of you. You don't have to give up any of those things."

"But I'm prepared to," I told him, trying my best to convey steadiness rather than stubbornness as I met his gaze once again. "If that's what it takes, then I'll do it, Dad, because this isn't just about me. This is about stopping a war that would devastate the entire world. Is that what you want? War?"

"Of course not," he conceded somewhat grumpily, "but that doesn't mean it has to be you stopping the war. There are others that the council can ask."

"Other Nobles of age and unmarried?" I arched a brow in challenge. "Who? Martha Greyson? She's incompetent and has been trying to run away from the life for years, now. She won't want anything to do with this, you have to know that."

"Desperate times," was all he said, as if that helped his argument. All it did was confirm that she had been one of the alternatives after all. I suddenly wasn't even sure I wanted to know whom else the Council had been considering. "Mwangi, Zimmerman, and Kostopoulos are all more willing, and—"

I couldn't help but sputter incredulously. "You've got to be joking! Those aren't options! Mwangi is a sixty-year-old woman with a broken hip! She can't even protect herself, let alone the world. And don't even get me started on Zimmerman and Kostopoulos. Their families have been trying to start a war for the past four generations. Who, exactly, thought it would be a good idea to put one of them in the middle of a town full of werewolves? We'll be at war within an hour."

"That's a little bit overdramatic, don't you think?"

I leveled a pointed stare at my father. "Sam Kostopoulos made a statement four months ago arguing that every werewolf that steps within a quarter-mile of a human should be shot on sight."

He let out an exasperated sigh at that, conceding the point with a tired nod of his head. Without bothering to try another argument, he simply dropped down into one of the leather chairs – looking defeated in a way that simultaneously relieved and unnerved me. While I appreciated the break from our argument, I realized for the first time that my father was truly starting to look his age. I took a moment to consider him: he'd had grey creeping into his hair for years now, but it occurred to me that it more grey than not at this point, and those dark, tired circles that outlined his eyes were certainly new.

As I eased myself down into the seat across from him, I wondered just how much sleep he'd lost worrying about me over the past few days. "I'm the best choice, Dad."

"I know." The admission seemed to pain him, his hand lifting to rub at the center of his forehead. "But you're still my little girl, Katie, and I don't want to see you get hurt. I don't want to see you in any sort of danger."

I could understand that, though it was still a bit of a foreign concept to me. This was the same man who hadn't so much as batted an eye when I'd moved to New York last summer, the same man who had encouraged me to look into joining the Peace Corps after graduation. The Peace Corps. He didn't really seem to have a problem with me being in dangerous situations, it was just that any mention of my involvement in Council-related matters seemed to trigger Overprotective Dad Mode.

I figured a diplomatic answer would be better received than one pointing out his hypocrisy. "I'll be in far more danger if we go to war, Dad. With the Treaty still in place, a human hasn't been attacked by a werewolf in six hundred years. One was only just bitten for the first time this year. The likelihood of me getting hurt is—"

"—significantly increased by your assumption of the role of Enforcer," he interrupted. "You can't compare yourself to a regular human now, not if you're seriously thinking about doing this. Your primary responsibility, besides reporting to the Council, is going to be neutralizing all werewolf threats. Sure, most of them haven't tried to attack a human, but do you really think the ones you're going to go after are just going to sit there and not fight back?"

…It was a fair point, but I knew better than to admit that aloud. So, instead of agreeing with his argument, I turned to look at the bookcase, nodding pointedly to the shelves on the left. "I understand where you're coming from, but look at those trophies and ribbons, and try to understand where I'm coming from. I'm well trained, Dad; I can protect myself."

"Katie…" He heaved a sigh, shifting in his seat and giving his head a disappointed shake. "I know you're well trained – I trained you myself – and I know you've won a lot of competitions, but it's not the same thing as using those skills in the real world. You've never faced a werewolf before – you've never even seen one – and you think you're prepared to hunt down ones that are breaking the rules?"

"I've taken down a vampire with Conner, and—"

"A vampire is not a werewolf," he stressed. "There's a reason the only species the founders made a treaty with was the werewolves, Kid; they're more dangerous and they have fewer weaknesses than every other species. Besides, you might have helped with that kill, but it was Conner's kill. You won't have him as back up on this, you know."

But of course I knew that. "I still won't be alone, Dad. I'll have—"

"He is not your brother!" A fist slammed down onto the armrest as the words echoed in the small room, my father's outrage palpable for a long moment before he let out a deep breath and lifted a hand in a calming gesture. "The Enforcer isn't Conner," he reiterated, tone much gentler this time around. "You will be alone, because you can't trust that werewolf to watch your back the way your brother would. He'll do his job, I'm sure, but that doesn't mean he'll be looking out for you."

"You're right," I acknowledged, knowing I should have been more careful with my words. "I didn't mean to sound overly trusting, I was just… I don't know what I was trying to say. I can trust myself though, Dad, even if you don't think I'm ready. I can do this."

But he only shook his head again, a heavy, miserable look in his brown eyes. "Come on, Kid," he urged, "don't you see what this is? You're a smart girl! Do you really think the Council believes this arrangement is going to work?"

My brow furrowed at the question, confusion warring with surprise inside of me. "Why wouldn't it work? And why would Cannizzaro come here and—"

He didn't let me finish, cutting me off with a simple wave of his hand. "The Council wants to go to war, Katie. The Council wants a reason to go to war. You know that some of the families have been gunning for this war for generations, and after what happened, the majority of the Council is right there with them. But some of us are still reluctant. Some of us know how dangerous a war would be. Yes, someone got bitten, and that is a breach of the Treaty, but some of us still want to try and keep the peace, just like I know you do. We can get over some random man in Africa being bitten – and don't make that face at me, I'm just trying to make a point! – but if the daughter of a Noble gets killed right in the heart of the werewolf hierarchy? There's no avoiding war then."

I felt a chill run through me at his words. What he was saying made sense, rationally speaking, but surely he was looking at the whole thing too pessimistically. A Noble death would undoubtedly lead to unavoidable, immediate war… but that didn't mean that the Council was actually planning on letting one die – or worse, setting one up to die. "Not everything's a conspiracy, Dad. This is just as likely a real solution, one that—"

"Don't be naïve, and don't be prideful, either. You're the best trained of the unmarried Noble daughters, sure, but even you're not prepared for this, and everyone in the Council knows it. Cannizzaro knows it. This is a death sentence, Katie, not an opportunity to keep the peace."

He was wrong. I could do it, and if Cannizzaro and the entire Council thought that I wasn't going to be able to, then I was just going to have to show them how wrong they all were – how wrong my own father was.

This could actually work. When Conner had first told me what had happened, I'd immediately assumed we were going to war, too, but when he'd mentioned this as a potential solution… Giving the Council more direct control over werewolf hierarchy? It really was genius. It could work – it had to work, because apparently my life now depended on it.

"This will work," I declared aloud. "Regardless of the Council's intention, this can work. As long as I'm okay, as long as nothing else happens to breach the Treaty, then no one can declare a war. I know you're worried about me, but you have to admit that I really am the only option here. And, besides, what else do you expect me to do? Sit on my hands helping Nora and Bridget with the horses? Send in more applications for regular, boring office jobs? I couldn't live with myself if I passed this opportunity up and Greyson got talked into it and ended up dead because we both know she's not prepared. I'm not okay sending someone to their certain death, not when I might actually stand a chance. Don't tell me you're okay with that."

For a long moment, my father said nothing and refused to so much as meet my gaze – he seemed suddenly far more interested in the trophies on the shelves. I could tell from the expression on his face that he wasn't at all okay with either of the options I'd just presented to him, but I knew him well enough to know he we had to agree with me… He just wasn't ever going to admit it out loud.

"I'm doing this, Dad," I affirmed once more, letting that hang in the air for a time. When it became clear he wasn't planning to respond, I switched the topic with an uncomfortable little cough. "So… what's he like?"

It was such a delayed question that I actually wanted to cringe at my own awkwardness. I mean, I'd just agreed to marry someone who I didn't know, and it wasn't until now that I'd thought to ask a single question about him. …Not that anything would change my decision, of course, but I could still hopefully ease a few of my biggest worries.

Such as: was I agreeing to marry a fifty-year-old man who already had two kids my age?

For a second, as I saw a sad smile flicker over my father's face, I thought I might have asked that aloud. "I don't really know the man, Katie. This Enforcer… he doesn't attend the Council meetings the way former Enforcers have done in the past. He didn't even show up to the emergency sessions that were held this past week. The Sovereigns have been keeping him as out of the spotlight as possible, I think."

I didn't particularly like the sound of that. Still, I tried for casual as I gave a slow nod. "Well that's... sketchy."

My father, though, seemed indifferent, waving his hand once again in dismissal. "It's smart. Enforcers are completely under the control of the Sovereigns, so there's really no reason for us to meet with them, anyway. Plus, every minute spent attending meetings is a minute not spent monitoring everything that's going on in the werewolf world, so it really doesn't make sense for them to attend."

And I supposed that was fair, but it didn't really do much to help with my more selfish concern. "So… you've never met him, then?"

"Met? No, not exactly. But I've seen him twice over the years, I think: once when he was just a boy and the previous Enforcers brought him with them to a meeting, and then – obviously – once when he succeeded them as Enforcer. He was still a boy then, truth be told, but he was tall and had dark hair. I don't remember much else… except, of course, that he didn't speak English."

"Come again?" I was sure he had misspoken.

But Dad only snorted, lips twitching in amusement despite the very serious nature of the conversation. "You heard me right, Kid: the Enforcer doesn't speak English. He was supposed to address the Council twelve years ago when he took over as Enforcer, but the entire ordeal lasted only a few minutes because it became very clear very quickly that he only spoke some obscure Eastern European language, and not even one of the families could understand him."

"None of them?" There were forty-eight families currently in the Council, and while English had become the lingua franca of the group, the families still came from all over the world, many of them speaking several languages. If none of them were familiar with the language that the Enforcer spoke… well what did that even leave? "Still," I continued, momentarily brushing my curiosity aside, "he's been living in Wolf Creek for years now. He might have picked it up along the way."

"He hasn't."

My initial reflex was to jump in my seat, caught off guard as I was by the Speaker's quiet reappearance. I hadn't heard the doors open, but when I spun around to look, sure enough, Cannizzaro was pulling one of the large doors closed behind him, a stack of papers in his spare hand. He offered a warm smile as he re-entered the room and sat down on the empty sofa, despite the very possible fact that he might be willingly trying to get me killed. I wasn't quite sure whether to smile back.

The Speaker seemed to take my lack of a response for confusion, nodding his head sagely and letting out a long-suffering sigh. "I know, it's… well, it's embarrassing, really. I ran into him in the Estate earlier this year, you see, because I needed to speak with the Sovereign about an important matter, but the Enforcer couldn't even figure out who I was and tried to walk right past me. Of course, it turned out he couldn't understand a single word I was saying – the damned fool! – so I suppose I should have let him scurry off. If you ask me, it's no wonder the Sovereign keeps him out of sight. And it's no wonder why he couldn't manage to do his job right and prevent someone from getting bitten."

Not wanting to offend the Speaker but also unable to keep a neutral expression, I ducked my head down uncomfortably, feigning a need to fix my hair. I was suddenly starting to understand what my father and brother had been saying all these years about Cannizzaro not being the most likeable of the Council members.

"English is a hard language to learn, Antonio," my father attempted to mediate, "and surely—"

"He's had years to learn it, Thomas; he just can't. Even Dobrev has managed to get enough words down to get by, even if he does sound like a child when he speaks. The Enforcer's just an idiot, is all."

Oh, and was that lint on my shoulder as well? Cautiously, I stole a glance in my father's direction, somewhat relieved to see that he appeared just as uncomfortable as I felt in that moment. Not because either of us gave a damn about the Enforcer, of course – I mean, hell, for all I knew, he could very well have been an idiot! – but simply because knowledge of a language wasn't the same as intelligence, and both of us knew that. Cannizzaro, apparently, did not.

"It's beside the point," came my father's second attempt at diplomacy. "Whether he understands English or not, you have to admit that he is a natural Enforcer. Despite the events of last week, this—"

"But we can't ignore what happened last week, Thomas!" the older man objected once again. "Sure, it's somewhat impressive that he took over at such a young age and has managed to stay alive all these years, but last week is proof that he's not as good of an Enforcer as everyone thought. It doesn't take brains to listen to orders and kill a few threats to the world. He's a mercenary, for God's sake; they're not known for their intelligence."

I half expected my Father to disagree, but instead of continuing his back-and-forth with the Speaker, he turned and sent a pointed look in my direction. "That's something to consider, Katie. We're talking about a werewolf who speaks a language that you don't speak and who kills others for a living. This isn't a decision to make lightly. You have to marry this werewolf, this man who can't possibly be stable or well-adjusted. I don't think you can even begin to understand exactly how unstable a person becomes when they have to kill as many as I'm sure he's had to kill. This is a very dangerous creature we're talking about, Katie."

The greying man beside him only scoffed, however, offering a wide smile as he turned to look at me again. "Your father is trying to scare you, but we're talking about a werewolf, not a person; there's no reason to psychoanalyze it. It's in his nature to kill. He's acting on instincts, and he's just as stable as the rest of them, I'm sure. Yes, of course werewolves are dangerous – we all know that that's true – but you're a well-trained, intelligent young woman. You know not to poke a dog with a stick, don't you?"

…I was becoming more and more certain that Cannizzaro and the rest of the Council really didn't expect me to live through this whole arrangement, but I still gave a slow, careful nod. "I can handle it," I said, more for my father's benefit than for anything else. "But… is there anything else I should know? Is there anything at all that you can tell me about him?"

"There's not much to say," the Speaker admitted with an apologetic shrug. "His name is Nicholas – no one knows his last name – and he—"

"Nikolai." My gaze flickered over to my father, and I couldn't help but arch a brow at the dramatic way that he had propped his elbow up onto the armrest and pressed his head against his fist. "His name is Nikolai, not Nicholas, Antonio."

"Same difference." I had to stifle the urge to snort as Cannizzaro continued on as if he hadn't been interrupted, my father watching on in boredom. "He's twenty-eight or—"

"Thirty-one."

It was very hard not to snicker at that, but somehow I managed to keep myself composed even as the Speaker sent a dark scowl in my father's direction.

"The man's twenty-eight or twenty-nine at the most, Thomas."

A slow blink answered the rebuttal. "He was sixteen when he became Enforcer, and that was fifteen years ago. There was a large debate over the fact that he wasn't even legally an adult at the time, remember?"

"…Huh." The older man didn't offer any apologies. "It feels like it wasn't that long ago."

When no one made a move to say anything more, I glanced between the two men pointedly. "…Is that all?"

"There's not really much else to say. He's just a werewolf, after all. He's… Eastern European, well over six foot, dark-haired… I'm really not sure what more you could possibly want to know."

And I really shouldn't have been surprised, but somehow, I was. "Do you at least know which language it is that he speaks? I can try and learn it, I suppose, so that a translator wouldn't be needed for very long." That seemed like the respectful thing to do, at least.

My father sat back up in his chair, tired eyes looking suddenly concerned. "Katie… you can't bring a translator with you into werewolf headquarters."

"You're going to tell me no translator already exists?" I raised a brow. "I can't bring a human translator, sure, but there have to be other werewolves out there that speak the Enforcer's language. He has to be communicating with the Sovereigns somehow, doesn't he? So either they know the language, or they use a translator. But I can figure out that out when I get there. What matters right now is: do either of you know what language the Enforcer speaks?"

The silence that met my question was answer enough.

"Fantastic." I should've known better than to expect differently, because of course it was just my luck that I would be meeting the man I was going to marry without knowing how to even say 'hello' to him. Resolving to try and dig further into the issue by sending out an email to some of the Nobles representing parts of Eastern Europe – because even if they didn't know the language themselves, maybe one of them at least recognized it – I let out a sigh and gave my hand a wave. "In that case, can someone at least fill me in on the plan, now? How long do I have before we leave?"

"One week." The Speaker shifted gears quickly, reaching forward and offering up the stack of papers that he had retrieved from his vehicle earlier. "This is some further information on the Council itself that I'm sure your father and brother will be happy to help you understand. Review that for the week, and don't hesitate to let me know if you have any questions at all that Thomas and Conner can't help you with. Otherwise, someone will escort you to Wolf Creek on Friday, and you'll have the weekend to get settled before meeting with us on Monday."

"Unless you've reconsidered," my father tacked on, though even he didn't look very hopeful when he turned toward me again. "You don't have to do this."

I gave my head a definitive shake. "No," I told him, voice strong as I leaned forward and accepted the offered files. "I can do this. I want to do this."