Possessing the Witch. Elle James
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murder.”
“I won’t lead the authorities down here. I’m careful to preserve what we have. It’s as much my home as yours. You all know me.” He waved a hand at Raymond. “Raymond, didn’t I lead you here when you’d passed out drunk in an alley and given up hope?”
Raymond frowned. “Yeah, but—”
Gryph continued, “Tara, when you first came to the Lair, didn’t I show you around the maze of tunnels until you were comfortable on your own?”
The furry woman nodded. “You did.”
“Many of you have known me my whole life. Have I ever hurt anyone?”
Many in the crowd muttered no.
Gryph lowered his voice and said softly, “I wouldn’t condemn the people I love to exposure to those who don’t understand us.”
Lucas, who had long dark hair, draped an arm over Gryph’s shoulder. “That’s right. You all know Gryph. He’s a good man. He might not be able to control his beast, but he’d give his life for any one of you.”
Gryph frowned at his brother. “I have control.”
Lucas’s mouth twisted. “Of course you do, even when you’re angry, right?” He clapped his hand on Gryph’s back. “Always the hero who could do no wrong.” Though he smiled, Lucas’s lip pulled back on one side in almost a sneer.
Gryph stared at his brother whose hand on his shoulder was tight, his fingers digging in.
Balthazar held up his hands. “You heard the man, he didn’t kill the surface dweller. Go home and get some sleep. Everything will be better by morning.”
Reluctantly, the crowd of misfits dispersed, muttering and grumbling as they trudged to their makeshift rooms constructed of abandoned pieces of plywood or cardboard in offshoots of the derelict rail tunnels.
Not long ago, Balthazar had worked with a handful of people to tap in to the electrical grid of the buildings, reactivating the lighting system in select tunnels so that they wouldn’t have to live in total darkness. For safety’s sake, everyone was required to have a stash of emergency flashlights. Every inhabitant knew that when city workers descended into the underground tunnels, they had to make themselves scarce. If they were discovered, the good surface-dwelling citizens of Chicago would force them to the surface, where they’d be pitied and treated as freaks.
“Where have you been?” Balthazar asked as he led Gryph and Lucas into his chambers.
“Recovering.” Gryph whipped the cape off his shoulders exposing his naked chest and the bandage Selene had carefully applied.
Balthazar’s lips pressed into a thin line. He peeled back the bandages and examined the ragged scabs over Gryph’s shoulder. “Who did this?”
“Question might not be who, but what?” Lucas said. “Looks like an animal attack. Did you do this to yourself?”
Gryph cast a tired glance at Lucas. “What reason would I have to attack myself?” he asked, then turned to Balthazar. “The woman was attacked by a large black wolf. I got to her as he was ripping into her.”
Balthazar’s brow lowered into a V. “Wolf, you say?”
“Since when have there been wolves in downtown Chicago?” Gryph asked. “I thought they stayed well north. Could they be shifters?”
“Are you sure that’s what it was?” Lucas lifted the tattered shirt. “You didn’t black out when you transformed?”
“I didn’t black out,” Gryph assured him.
“Were you unconscious at all last night?” Balthazar asked.
Gryph hesitated. “Yes. After I made sure the woman would be okay, I left her for the emergency medical technicians and got away before they could see my face.”
“But not before the woman saw yours.” Balthazar walked to a bookshelf and selected a brown leather journal. “Unfortunately, the victim was able to describe you in sufficient detail for a sketch artist to draw a reasonable likeness of you in your half-shifted state. And equally unfortunate, the news publicized it. Did anyone else see you? Did you pass anyone while you were running?”
Again Gryph hesitated. “No.” The lie came hard to him. But he didn’t want any of the otherkin to seek out Selene or the other woman and consider them threats to the Lair’s existence. The two women had helped him when he might have died of his wounds or from exposure to the potentially toxic river water. The fewer people who knew he’d spent time in Selene’s apartment, the better. He hoped that she wouldn’t tell the police he’d been there. If she did, it might hit the news and the inhabitants of the underworld would once again see it on their televisions, even in the depths of the tunnels.
Yes, cable television was another improvement, along with internet connection, that Balthazar had been adamant about bringing to the people who lived below Chicago. Because of his desire to bring technology to the underworld, Balthazar had opened up an entire world of learning to Gryph and Lucas.
Balthazar checked Gryph’s wound and bandaging. “Since when did you learn about poultices, son?”
Lucas’s pale gray eyes narrowed, watchfully.
“I’ve been studying the internet for holistic cures. It was one of the remedies.”
“Made of what?” Lucas leaned close and sniffed. “Some kind of herb and mud?”
“Something like that.” Gryph strode into his old room and dug a shirt out of the dresser, his gaze lingering on the world map tacked to the wall.
“Traveling among the humans is dangerous. You risk your life and anonymity each time you walk among them.” Balthazar held up a hand. “I know you’ve been doing it for the past five years, but this was exactly what I feared might happen.” Balthazar stood in the entrance to his room. “Last night you thought you had control of your beast, yet you still transformed.”
Gryph stiffened. “What else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t let him kill her.”
“Indeed, but by transforming and showing yourself as such, you’ve made yourself a target.”
“No one in my office knows.”
“But the woman you saved saw you with your face half man and half lion.”
“I saw the drawing on the television. They won’t link it to Gryphon Leone. The features weren’t specific enough. She concentrated on the animal.”
Balthazar nodded. “True enough. In the meantime, you’re better off taking a leave of absence. Tell your office staff you’ll be out of the country.”
Already shaking his head, Gryph stepped forward. “I can’t.”
“What is so important you can’t lay low for a few weeks until the furor dies down?”
“The charity ball for the children.”
Balthazar’s lips formed a thin line. “The charity ball. Why do you have to be there?” Balthazar’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t you just spend the money and let someone else take the reins on planning?”
“My company is sponsoring it. The money raised will go to the homeless children of Chicago. I’ve helped sponsor it for the past three. This year, GL Enterprises is the main sponsor. The Women’s Aid Organization is demanding that the head of GL Enterprises needs to attend the ball to show his support.”
Lucas chuckled. “My brother, a home-grown Chicago celebrity. A wanted man in more ways than one.”
“Believe me, I’d let them handle all of it, but they said our donations have dwindled and the public wants to know the man sponsoring the ball is fully committed. They’re afraid I’m Mafia or something—you know, dirty money.”
“That’s