Timeless

Biffy swallowed his mouthful. “Isn’t that part of controlling the shape-shift?”

“Goodness no. It’s a rare thing for a wolf to fight smart. Alphas, of course, and a few lucky Betas, and some of the oldest of the pack regulars. But most everyone else goes on instinct. It’s quite a gift to have learned so young. I’m proud of you.”

Biffy could feel himself blushing. Never before had he received a compliment from Professor Lyall, not even a fashion-related one.

“Och, how sweet.” Lady Kingair’s lip curled. “But perhaps the compliments could wait until you have explained yourself, Beta.”

Lyall finished his repast and collapsed against an overturned stack of metal slates. Biffy pressed his back slightly against his Beta’s legs, taking comfort from the contact, and leaned up on one elbow to look at Lady Kingair. The Alpha propped herself into a full seated position, using a massive box of ammunition. She looked tired, but still angry. They all stared at one another.

Finally Professor Lyall said, “I’ll admit I did not see it from your perspective, my lady. And for that I extend my sincerest apologizes. But you have no idea what he was like. No idea.”

Sidheag Maccon looked much like her great-great-great-grandfather as she popped the last bite into her mouth and gave the Beta an austere look. When she finished chewing, she said magnanimously, “I ken he went mad. I ken he was violent. I dinna think that’s an excuse.”

“He killed Alessandro.”

“Aye? Well, Templar training will only get a man so far. And after, what? You planned for years to get your revenge. At my expense. At poor old Gramps’s expense. He was happy in Scotland. What werewolf wants to come to England when he has the rolling green of the Lowland to run? You stole him against his will. Against our will.”

The Beta fished about for a scrap of paper and cleaned his hands of blood as though with a handkerchief. “I provided the temptation. Your pack need not have followed it.”

“Na good enough, Randolph Lyall. Na good enough.”

Professor Lyall took a deep breath as though to fortify himself. Biffy felt a soft touch on his shoulder, and he craned his neck about to find the Beta leaning toward him. “You needn’t have come, pup, although I’m glad you did. But I do wish you didn’t have to hear what comes next.”

But Biffy did hear, every messy, degrading, disgusting detail as Professor Lyall told Lady Kingair exactly what life had been like under the Alpha Lord Woolsey. Servicing him as Beta near the end had been humiliating—for five and a half long years. Lyall’s face was deadpan as he relayed the details, as those who are tortured or raped will become when they retell the pattern of abuse. Biffy began crying quietly and wishing, indeed, that he did not have to hear it.

Lady Kingair lost much of her anger in the telling, but her sympathies were not entirely swayed. She could understand that Lyall had found himself in a situation with no possible way out except the one he took. But she could still not forgive that her pack had suffered the consequences of his choice.

“Oh, aye, and is that to be my lot as well? Tae be going all over abusive and deranged? Will poor old Gramps face the same fate?”

“Not all Alphas go bad the way Lord Woolsey went bad. He already had the tendencies. It’s simply that when he was sane, he acted with the consent of his partners. Take comfort, my lady—most Alphas die before the opportunity arises.”

“Oh, aye, much obliged I’m sure. Verra comforting, that is. What now, Professor?”

“Well, in an odd way, I am glad it is known. But Lord Maccon will never forgive me or trust me again. I take it you wrote him the details?”

“Oh, aye.”

“Poor Lady Maccon. She didn’t want to keep my secret. Now she will have to handle Conall finding out.”

“You telling me you’re prepared to make reparations?” Lady Kingair looked less angry and more contemplative, examining Professor Lyall through half-lidded eyes.

Biffy, wary of that look, leaned in against his Beta. Relishing the intimacy, feeling oddly proprietary.

Professor Lyall squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Of course.”

“And you ken what I will want of you?”

The Beta nodded, looking resigned.

Lady Kingair took a deep breath and looked down her nose at the slight, sandy-haired gentleman. And Professor Lyall was still a gentleman, Biffy realized, even without a stitch of clothing, lying on the floor of a stockroom.

“I’m thinking Kingair’s needing a Beta right about now.”

“No!” Biffy couldn’t help the exclamation. He reeled away from Lyall, turning so that he faced him fully.

Professor Lyall only nodded.

“And you, for all yon manipulations, are one of the best. Possibly because of them.”

Professor Lyall nodded again.

“Oh, no,” Biffy cried. “You can’t abandon us! What will we do without you?”

Professor Lyall only looked at him with a little smile. “Oh, now, Biffy, I think you will do very well.”

“Me!” squeaked Biffy.

“Of course. You have the makings of an excellent Beta.”

“But I… I…,” Biffy stuttered.

Lady Kingair nodded. “That’ll do nicely. Now dinna worry, pup, we won’t keep him for all time—only until we find someone better.”

“There is no one better,” said Biffy with absolute confidence.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Haverbink stuck his head in without being summoned.

“Didn’t I order you to stay away?” asked Professor Lyall placidly.

“Yes, sir, but it was so quiet I wanted to make certain you were all still alive.”

“As you see. And?”

“And a massive gilt carriage has just pulled up out front. Lord Akeldama sent it with his compliments.” Haverbink produced a mauve-colored scrap of paper. Lilac scent wafted into the room. “Said you would need a nice dark ride back home to get some sleep, and what were you fluffy darlings all doing still out and about?”

“How could he have known to send such a thing? He himself should already be comatose.” Lyall blinked in mild confusion and looked to Biffy for an explanation.

“He would have left orders with his drones.”

“Nosy vampire neighbors,” sniffed Lady Kingair.

Afterward, Biffy could only just recall that ride back home, stumbling into the house and up the stairs, he and Professor Lyall leaning against one another in exhaustion. But he remembered perfectly the Beta’s face, a single sharp look when they reached the door to his chamber, almost frightened. It was a look Biffy recognized. He had neither the strength nor the interest in allowing loneliness to pillage anyone else’s peace of mind.

So he made the offer. “Would you like company, Professor?”

Professor Lyall looked at him, hazel eyes desperate. “I wouldn’t… that is… I couldn’t… that is… I’m not all that… capable.” He gave a weak little flap of a gesture indicating his still-wounded state, his fatigue, and his disheveled appearance all in one.

Biffy gave a little puff of a chuckle. He had never seen the urbane professor discombobulated before. Had he known, he might have flirted more in the past. “Just company, sir. I should never presume even if we were both in perfect health.” Besides, my hair must look atrocious. Imagine being able to attract anyone in such a state, let alone someone of Lyall’s standing.

The corner of his Beta’s mouth twitched, and he withdrew behind a veil of dispassionate hazel eyes. “Pity, pup? After you heard what Lord Woolsey did to me? It was a long time ago.”

Biffy had no doubt Professor Lyall was as proud, in his way, as any other man of good breeding and refined tastes. He tilted his head, showing his neck submissively. “No, sir. Never that. Respect, I suppose. To survive such things and still be sane.”

“Betas are made to maintain order. We are the butlers of the supernatural world.” An analogy no doubt