Chapter 29

I've never thought of myself as the sort of person who would eavesdrop on other people's conversations, even accidentally, let alone on purpose. Then again, my life after getting out of prison hasn't looked anything like I had ever expected for myself. I might as well embrace the new normal.

That's how I find myself doing the unexpected on Monday morning, walking into the Alpha's mansion with the full intention of listening in on as many conversations as I possibly can without people getting suspicious. I need to try to figure out what the hell is going on with Charles.

I feel weird about it, but I don't have much choice. Not that I put up much of an argument when the gang insisted that I'd be the perfect person for the job, of course. They'd all said so at lunch on Saturday, and I couldn't disagree.

I am the perfect person for the job, for one thing. I'm the one with legitimate access to the Alpha's mansion, which is where Charles mainly operates his nest of vipers. His office is there, and he and Daisy even still live there, in the family quarters.

For another thing, I want to help. I've become genuinely fond of the guys in the gang. They're sweet and caring, and they don't deserve to be used as pawns in Charles's little games. If I can find a way to help them, I will.

And, lastly, it will be good for my own cause to figure out what Charles has up his sleeve. I haven't forgotten my goal of getting revenge on him, and something tells me that everything Charles has done to me is related to everything he's got going on now.

I unlock my office at around nine and switch on my computer before heading to the staff kitchen for my first cup of coffee. My appointment with the Alpha is at 9:30, so I don't dawdle. After checking my messages, I head to his office.

He responds to my brisk knock with a gentle, "Come in!" I enter the room and close the door behind me, setting my medical bag on the chair next to the door before walking over to shake his hand.

"How are we feeling this morning, Emmett?" I ask as I check his pulse. It's quicker than I'd like, but I don't let my worry show on my face. I was told in medical school and during my internship rotations that I have an impeccable poker face, which comes in handy in the medical field.

"All right," the Alpha says, slumping a little in his chair. He looks tired, the wrinkles on his face standing out more visibly than usual. "Just a little tired, dear. We had another late night yesterday, one of my wife's social functions."

I tsk as I help him roll up his sleeve to check his blood pressure. "Emmett, I thought we talked about this. As your doctor, I do reserve the right to override your wife, you know."

Emmett barks a laugh. "Dear girl, I wouldn't say that in her earshot. You have no idea what you'd be getting yourself into, challenging a Luna's authority like that."

I smile back at him. "Perhaps this job is more dangerous than I thought."

"Perhaps so," the Alpha says. He quiets as I frown at his blood pressure cuff readings. "Anything wrong, my dear?"

"Frankly, yes," I say briskly, pulling up a chair opposite his desk and leaning on my elbows. "Emmett, I don't like these readings. Your pulse is too fast, and your blood pressure is too high. I know you take your medication and follow the diet I prescribed for you, but I'm not seeing improvement."

"What does that mean for me, then?" The Alpha is calm; he looks at me directly with the blue eyes that remind me so much of Marcus's. He's not afraid to face his own mortality. I feel my heartstrings tug.

"It means that I need to do some more investigating," I say. I don't want to bring up my suspicions about Charles until I have some kind of concrete proof, or at least something more persuasive than a gut feeling. "I want to run some more tests."

"Test away," the Alpha sighs, reaching heavily for the glass of water on his desk. "I wouldn't mind a day of tests, come to think of it. Help me get out of some of these meetings."

"Now, that is something I want to take care of right now," I say. "I'm not seeing enough improvement, Emmett. I'm going to give you an order to limit your meetings to 10 a.m. through 1 p.m. only, and then you need to go back to your private quarters and rest for the day.

"I'm also putting you on a temporary curfew for social functions. Nothing past 9 p.m. Dinners will just have to be scooched up an hour or so, and I'm afraid your dancing days are going to be on pause until I can get to the bottom of this."

The Alpha gives me a grateful smile. "You know, my dear, I think I do very much like the sound of that."

I leave the Alpha's office a few minutes later and head back to my own, mulling over the situation. Something funny is definitely going on here, not only with Charles and the gang but also with the Alpha's health.

There's no way that his blood pressure should still be so high, not with the medication he's on and the diet I've planned for him. I don't think he's lying about sticking to either; the Alpha is a kind, gentle man who radiates honesty.

And it's not werewolf-specific, either. I trained in werewolf anatomy; I have the Alpha on a very careful combination of medication and diet that should be working with his genetic makeup and metabolism to drive that blood pressure right down.

It's just not working, and it's not because I've made a mistake. I know it's not – I've double-checked my prescriptions and his test results at least a dozen times over the past two weeks.

No, it's something else. It's as if someone is tampering with him – with his food, his medication, something. And I have a pretty damned good idea who that "someone" might be. I just need to figure out a way to confirm my suspicions, before it's too late.

I'm still thinking about all this as I approach the staff kitchen, but I stop suddenly when I hear voices coming from Clarie's office. That's strange – Claire isn't in today. It's her grandson's birthday, and her whole family has taken him to the zoo today.

No one else should have access to her office. No one except the Alpha himself, of course, or maybe…

I tiptoe closer to her office and strain to hear. Sure enough, there are low, angry voices coming from within.

"I don't care," the woman says. "Joel, this is getting serious. Father is declining fast, and he still hasn't named an heir. He's waiting around waiting for Marcus to propose to Lydia, and fat chance of that. We need to speed this up somehow."

"What happens if he dies before naming an heir?" Joel asks. "Has that ever happened before?"

"I have no idea," the woman says. "I suppose it must have, in the past, but I don't know how the lineage passes on in those circumstances. Which is why we need to act. Fast. Now. Today."

"Daisy, come on," Joel says. "How exactly do you propose we discredit Marcus to Father? He's always been Father's favorite, even above you, and you're the baby and the only girl. If you can't wheedle Father round, how do you expect me to help?"

"We need to do something that will make Father angry with Marcus. Set him up, somehow. Maybe – maybe make it look like he's been embezzling? Or like he's committed some crime of honor?"

"I don't know." Joel sounds uneasy. "Daisy, this is all getting to be a little much, to be honest. This isn't like you; I've never seen this side of you before. Where is this even coming from? You don't sound like yourself."

"Of course I'm myself," Daisy snaps. "I just have more to think about now. I have to think about Charles, and the baby. I can't sit around waiting for things to work out for me. I need to make them happen for myself."

"And how does this benefit me, you getting named heir?" Joel asks. I'm glad he did, because I'm wondering that myself.

"Your goals are much more in line with Charles's – and, um, mine, of course," Daisy says. "You and I agree on the direction we want this pack to go. Marcus and Father want us stuck in the past."

"Then why not make me Alpha?" Joel asks. "Why does it have to be you?"

"You know perfectly well that your wife has no interest in being Luna," Daisy says. "And you can't lead as well with one as you can with two. With Charles behind me, we all have the best chance of success."

"That sounds more like Charles's words in your mouth," Joel says.

"Well, it's not." There's a thud, like someone has slammed something heavy onto Claire's desk. "Now, you can take some time to think it over, but don't wait too long. I need to know soon.

"Now, let's get out of here before that creepy witch doctor is done in Father's office. And make sure you put the key to this office back exactly where you found it; I don't want us getting caught."

"I still don't see why we had to come up here in the first place," Joel complains.

"Where else can we speak, knowing we definitely can't be overheard? Father's office and Clarie's office are the only places in this godforsaken mausoleum that I trust. Now, come on. Hurry up."

I don't wait around to hear any more. I slip silently into my office and ease the door shut, locking it behind me. I listen to Joel and Daisy leave Claire's office, lock it, and disappear down the steps, and then I sit behind my desk and stare out the window for a long time.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?