Chapter 135

Grace

I had never realized what it would be like to work with Eason so closely. He was direct, quick-witted, insightful, and utterly ruthless. He called me on my shit, but he wasn't mean about teaching me the things I didn't know. By the time he was out of ice cream and George was calling to pick him up, I had a full three-page front and back set of notes about ideas to fulfill the nine requirements that were explicitly stated and a working understanding of how the current six senators had all gotten their seats.

The first pillar was population. Mooncrest would need to be a pack of over 10 million people. If I recall, we weren't even at a few hundred thousand before people started transferring out en masse. Mooncrest was a large city, but we weren't overly populated. We had always had a lot of older people, and as they died, the numbers decreased.

The second pillar was the pack's land stake. I didn't even want to confirm how far off we were from the requirement, but I knew we were damn far.

The third, fourth, and sixth had to do with pack resources, i.e., money and assets that could be recognized by the Werewolf States' Department of Treasury and the Inter-Species Federal Bank, totaling at least two billion dollars in GDP. The fifth was about internal allies in the States and fostering werewolf unity. The eighth was sort of nebulous, but the last two were straightforward: I had to be thirty years old with a viable line of succession, and the pack had to get through an Inter-Pack Police audit.

As I told Charles, it was all connected one way or another, but now it all just felt arbitrary, considering our president backed terrorists. Maybe it was just supposed to make it harder for anyone with morals to have any real power.

I sighed and packed up for the day, grateful to be heading home. I had the notes with me, but I didn't look at them after Eason had left, distracting myself with anything else.

"I'm home!" I called out.

"Mommy!" Cecil squealed, rushing down the hall in her pajamas towards me.

I scooped her up and kissed her cheek, grinning at her. "What a welcome."

"Is it true? Is it true? You're going to be a senator?"

I blinked as Kelly came down the hall with an apologetic smile.

"I was reading the news, and she noticed your picture."

I smiled. "Well... that's the idea."

"Is it true senators get to make laws?"

"Yes."

"That's super cool!" She said, her eyes bright with such innocent enthusiasm. My heart melted. "You should make a law that mean people have to make cookies for nice people."

I chuckled. "Well, I don't think that kind of law was possible, but I'll think about it."

I waved Kelly goodbye and headed towards the kitchen. Her suggestion was adorable and ridiculous, but it got me thinking.

I had told Charles that I would be able to change national policies, and while that was true, I suppose I had never thought about it in real concrete terms. It was just a fact, like a formula I had rattled off because there was nothing in me that really believed it was possible when I said it, but now it was different.

The pages from meeting with Eason, the resoluteness of his tone, rattled through me.

I think you've got this in the bag.

I know. I've always known that. You're the only one who doesn't.

His ideas and the ones we'd worked on together were all solid. I could see Gabriel standing on the name of a pack that no longer existed, talking about the people who were barely making it in their smaller packs.

As alpha, I could help a few, but as a senator, I could help so many more. I could really make the world a better place, not just for my family but for everyone.

As we sat around the dinner table, my gaze fell on Eason, and I couldn't help but think about how much easier his life might have been if our father had held real power within the States. It was a bittersweet thought. I looked at Cecil as she bounced in her seat and wondered how much easier I could make her life, how much better I could make Richard's life.

Wouldn't that be a better gift than just... having me here? For a moment, I thought about what Ethan said about my drug being an afterthought, and I couldn't help but agree.

Without change, without progress, what good would longevity do us? I tucked Cecil in and rocked Richard to sleep before wandering downstairs. Eason was seated on the couch, dressed for bed in the summer and reading a huge book. An empty tub of ice cream sat beside him.

I settled on the couch beside him. "I envy you. How much ice cream have you had today?"

"A shit ton," Eason said and turned a page. "You should have some. I don't think Charles would be opposed to you having a little more to hold on to."

"Eason."

"I've been told that the jiggle is the best part of hitting it from the back." He tucked a bookmark into the book and closed it before looking at me,

"What's on your mind?"

I looked away. "What are you reading?"

"How to Teach My Sister Better Evasions Tactics."

I scowled at him. "Yeah? A bit of light reading before bed?"

He tilted his head. "Nah. That's the Kama Sutra."

I laughed and nudged him. "You're terrible."

He set the book on the table and flopped over, taking over my lap as a pillow with a sigh. I chuckled.

"Been a while since we've had a lap pillow heart-to-heart."

My lips twitched. The last time we'd been like this was before I went off to college when he'd told me he liked men, and I asked if going into the school locker room was like free porn for him.

"Still as bony as ever."

I whacked him, and he laughed and looked up at me.

"The eyes are... a bit unnerving."

"Agreed," he said and shrugged. "Though I think George finds them hot, especially when they glow, so I'm living with it. Tell me the truth, Grace. What is it?"

I sighed. "I appreciate your... support, but... I'm not certain."

"You never liked to get into fights you weren't sure you could win," he said. "This feels like a fight that's rigged against me."

"That's because it is," Eason said. "What does that matter?"

I shook my head. "How do you just... go on without a plan?"

"Because I believe in having a good plan, a back-up, and the knowledge that no plan survives engagement."

I groaned. "Then why plan at all."

"If you fail to plan, you plan to fail. Going in with a plan doesn't guarantee success. It just means that you're controlling your reaction to what could happen more than if you went in with nothing." He poked me in the forehead. "Your problem is that you don't understand the value of brainstorming, imagining, fantasy even." He shook his head. "All those science journals have taught you one mode of thinking, and it's rigid."

"You're saying I don't have an imagination?"

He smiled and pinched my cheek. "I think you've lost it, actually."

I blinked at him, unsure of what to say.

"When's the last time you painted?" Eason said. "I don't even think you finger paint with Cecil, let alone anything else."

I frowned, considering it. "I... don't really remember."

"Do you even know where your easel is?"

I shook my head. "I... I don't."

He nodded. "It's hard to imagine when you're fucking miserable."

I swallowed. "I used to paint all the time..."

"I know... Before Dad died."

I sat back, blowing out a breath. I didn't want to think about it. The pain still felt fresh.

"Dad died, and you lost it. I think you went for what was safe, what was easy, what seemed uncomplicated because.... grief is complicated."

My jaw trembled. "I... I don't like that it sounds like you're a therapist. I'm the older."

"You'd be a terrible therapist," he said. "And we both know it."

My jaw trembled. "I... I miss them both."

"Same."

"How..." I paused. "How did you just... keep going? How did you come back here and not see them everywhere."

"I did. I do, but I also see you." I looked down at him, and he smiled. "And that was enough then."

"And now?"

"Now, I'd like my sister to pull her head out of the science journals and imagine something being possible without an equation. I'd like you to stop thinking that your first plan, your logical plan, is perfect, and if you don't have one, then it's not to be done. Challenge yourself a bit, and you might figure out what the rest of us already know."

"And what's that?"

He sat up. "That you're unstoppable when you decide to be."

He stood and stretched. "I have to eat, or I'll jeopardize my rewards."

I laughed. "How would they even know?"

"I'll lose weight," he said and shrugged. "George thinks I'm too skinny since I've shot up four inches."

"No dick if you're a stick, hm?"

"You got it. You staying or coming?"

I bit my lip and stood. "Coming, but... could I ask you for something?"

"Depends," he said slyly. "Not sure if it would be a good idea to teach you sex tricks. Charles already looks like he wants to eat you alive every time you're in the room, and you need to focus."

I rolled my eyes. "Some other times. I actually want your help figuring out how far the pack really is from being Senate-level. I want to refine my plan... even if it won't survive engagement."

Eason grinned at me. "You've got it, Science Queen. But be warned, George is probably going to haul me off to bed in about an hour, so we'll have to work quickly."

I laughed. "I promise not to keep you up too late."