“Hello, Jacky,” his smooth, scotch voice said from the other end, further from the phone than Carey. He sounded pleased, probably because I called—just like I promised him I would—and was in the process of groveling for ignoring her for nearly a week. “Carey, let her get to work. You have a science project to be working on.”
“I’m going! Bye, Jacky!”
“Bye, Carey,” I said and heard her hang up. For a moment, I just smiled at the phone. Talking to Heath the night before had made me feel better. Not completely better, but at least someone on the other end of the phone knew what I was trying to deal with. He would keep her safe if I couldn’t, especially now that he thought I believed there might be a threat. He was her father, after all.
Letting them go, I immediately dialed Hasan. He hadn’t answered at three in the morning before I went to sleep, and it was close to two in the afternoon now.
Maybe if I blow up his phone, he’ll call me back.
It was strange, actually. Anytime I contacted him first, he was quick to answer or get back to me. One would think because I was showing some interest in the family’s business, he would call frequently. Instead, he missed three days of calls when he promised to call every night with whatever Jabari reported.
He didn’t answer, and I growled at the phone. Pondering, I tried for someone I hadn’t spoken to in nearly eight years, Jabari’s twin sister, Zuri.
The only reason I had her number was Hasan didn’t let me leave without making sure I could contact any of my siblings. He wanted me to have options if I needed help. Zuri was even less close to me than Jabari was and was always the one who maintained the most distance when I was Changed, and Hasan brought me to his home. The only reason she was the one I wanted to call was because she was his twin. She would be the first to know any news.
“Jacqueline. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Her voice was cool, crisp, much like I remembered her entire demeanor. Jabari and Zuri were essentially royalty, thanks to being Hasan’s children and their age. It was Zuri who embodied that ideal. Regal and beautiful, it was said she looked like her mother, Hasan’s mate. She was intelligent and ruthless, cunning and vicious, all wrapped in beautiful traditional African garb I didn’t know the name of or couldn’t pronounce. I couldn’t even tell someone what region it was from. She once said I was ‘too American’ as she laughed. I had tried my hardest to pronounce what it was when she told me. It was the only time I ever saw her laugh.
Looking back and not being able to remember, I felt a little bad. I never gave any of my new siblings much of a chance either.
“Um…” Nerves hit me quickly. “So…I asked Hasan about knowing what—”
“Yes. Father said you were going to be brought into the loop about Jabari. Why are you calling me?” The coolness turned to boredom. She was already done with the conversation, and whatever confusion she had about my calling was carefully masked by her attitude.
“He hasn’t called me in a few days. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. I’m getting worried and—”
There was a soft laugh on the other end. “He always said you would grow to care, learn to join the family if we gave you a chance. Looks like he was right. I’ll tell you what you want to know, but understand, none of us are very worried yet. This kind of thing happens.”
“Okay.”
“Jabari hasn’t called in since Thursday evening. He said the local wolf pack was being stubborn about speaking to him, unsure of where he came from or who he was. They weren’t helpful, so he went out to investigate the territories our lost brother and sister lived in. He said something about a park, but I don’t live in the United States. Please forgive me, I don’t really know where he was talking about.” I heard cushions sink under weight, the unmistakable sound of fabric rubbing against fabric and a small squeak of springs. She must have sat down or gotten comfortable. “Now, under these circumstances, we don’t worry until one of us goes a week without reporting in. There could be a number of reasons he hasn’t gotten in touch. Father probably didn’t tell you because he knew you would begin to worry.”
“So, ignoring me is helping me not worry?” I asked dryly.
“Ignoring you means he’s not giving you information you can act rashly with. I don’t have the same problem though, little sister. You want in, so I’m going to treat you like our brothers and sister. Jabari handles work with Father, and I handle the rest of you.”
“You never handled me…” I muttered. ‘The rest of you’ sounded like an insult, but I didn’t take it that way. Zuri was the big sister who made sure everyone ate dinner. She made sure everyone lived in a good home and had everything they needed. If she was royalty, and you were related to her, that made you royalty, and she expected you to live like it, to act like it.
I never gave her the chance to do that, hence my comment. She never tried to either.
“No. Father wanted to deal with you on his own. You’re his first rebellious American child. The first one in the family at all. That being said, here you are calling me. I always thought he handled you with…what’s that saying? Kid gloves?”
“That’s the one,” I mumbled, leaning over to rest my head in my free hand.
“Yes. Like precious china or something delicate. After last year, though, I would say you are anything but delicate. Then again, Mischa always told him that very thing. The one thing she and I ever agreed on.”
I snorted at that. Mischa was Hasan’s Russian daughter. Born in the cold winds of the Siberian tundra, her werecat form was an unusual white and light grey with electric blue eyes. She was also loud, boisterous, and totally at odds with Zuri. They were from literally opposite sides of the world and acted like they were completely opposite people.
“If Hasan doesn’t call me, can I call you?” I asked, letting the topic of Mischa and family dynamics drop.
“Yes, and I’ll pass along what he says to me. He probably didn’t think you would reach out, but I’ll give him my mind over it. Everything aside, you are my little sister.” There was a hint of something motherly and caring in her words.
“Hasan said you all…wanted to help me last year.”
“Being called to Duty is awful, and I don’t wish it on any werecat. When he told me you were, I was furious. You should have been at home, safe from that particular part of our life. Too young to handle something like that, in my opinion. When I heard you survived but were in trouble with the Tribunal, I screamed at him. Asked him what he was going to do to help you. It wasn’t my best moment, but I only want you to know the truth.”
“But you didn’t talk to me for…years.”
“Did you want me to talk to you?”
“Not really.”
“There you go. Jabari and I once stopped talking for thirty years. Mischa and I regularly call each other only once a year if either of us remembers. The rest, I try to stop in and have dinner with every six months or so. Or we all meet at Hasan’s for a holiday, whatever is popular with the humans at the time. You’re young. I should have realized such silence would hurt you in ways it doesn’t bother us. I never…lived in a time where a few short years mattered. I was never human.”
“I forget that you’ve been a werecat since you were born,” I replied.
“Well, if that’s all, I’m going to let you go. There’s a very beautiful man standing in my doorway.”
“Male model or actor?” It was the only thing I remembered clearly about Zuri—her choices in men. She had great taste.
“Model. They talk less.”
I snorted as she hung up.
With that handled, I tried one more person—Lani.
It rang into her voicemail. I didn’t say anything, hanging up with a sigh. At least two of my four phone calls went all right. Carey wasn’t upset, and Zuri told me what I wanted to know. Now, I just hoped nothing was wrong with Jabari. Two werecats were already dead. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if it became three.
Lani sure wouldn’t.
Chapter Eight
I waited impatiently by the phone Monday and Tuesday morning. When Carey came over, she proved to be the only temporary distraction I would get, graciously not asking too many questions about what was bothering me. Once she understood it wasn’t her or her father, she wasn’t concerned, demanding I take her to a second movie next week with another dinner at a proper restaurant.
Kid knew how to bargain.
Work wasn’t a better distraction, mainly because the weeknights were always a little slower than weekends, and business was never what one would call booming. I was pacing behind my bar after my early opening with only two patrons inside when I received a text from Hasan. Zuri had told me Monday there was still no word. My heart started to race as my phone buzzed with the new message. For the first time, I was in a group text with Hasan and the rest of the family. Whatever he wanted to say, he wanted to make sure everyone saw it.
Hasan: Family meeting tonight. No contact from Jabari. Jacky, it will be at seven in the evening for you.
Hisao: I had a date, but fine.
Davor: Why can’t Jabari just use the satellite phone I got him? Did he forget it, then realized he was out of cell phone reception? He’s normally not so dumb.
Zuri: He didn’t forget the satellite phone, little brother. I watched him walk out the door with it.
Mischa: Should have sent me.
Zuri: We learned nine hundred years ago never to send you anywhere.
My eyes were wide, watching the texts continue as my siblings ribbed each other. Hasan never commented again, and Niko, the last of the males in the family, never commented at all. Gathering my courage, I started to ask what was probably a dumb question.
Jacky: Do I need to shut down the bar for the night?
The quick replies died off. I felt stupid. Of course, I should shut down the bar for a family meeting, and the full moon was Wednesday. I would be closed for two nights, which would kill my weekly revenue, but I could afford it.