"Has he met them?"
"Hell, I've met them," Weldon grumbled. "I'm the Grand Master, remember?"
"Yeah. So, did you change the rule or whatever about having two?"
"Yes I did, at one of the meetings. The females, if they go to a male, have to produce two children from that union before they can go to someone else. As you've likely noticed, most werewolf matches are arranged and love isn't involved all that much until those first two kids are produced."
"Yeah. I figured that out with Whitney and Daryl," I said. "I took three bullets over that one."
"And Daryl and Whitney are both grateful, as are their mates," Weldon nodded.
"So, what about you?" I asked. "Surely there's a female out there for you."
"I have one, only she's not Pack," he said. "She doesn't know what I am and is quite surprised that I care for her," Weldon went on. "She's in her early forties, still looks pretty good, isn't as thin as a stick, puts up with me in the sack and I love her as much as I can love anybody."
"Looks like you're happy with that," I said. "Does she live in Grand Forks, or something?"
"Just outside town. Owns a ranch there. We see each other two or three times a month if I'm lucky. She's busy, I'm busy. I'll be glad to get back, though."
"Yeah," I said. The trip was beginning to wear on me, too. "I have to go to bed soon and if I don't go now, I won't have time to get my bath or brush my teeth."
"At least you won't have to listen to Winkler having a good time," Weldon grumbled. His empty paper coffee cup was tossed into the trash and we went back upstairs.
There was still noise going on, making me wonder how long Winkler could go on before reaching exhaustion. Well, none of my business. I was clean and my teeth brushed when Weldon covered me up on one side of the bed. He crawled in on the other side and I briefly thought it awkward that I was to sleep with the Grand Master before my eyes shut with the dawn and it didn't matter anyway.
The woman was still there in Winkler's room when I rose, only she'd gone out to pick up some clothing from somewhere. "I'm Kellee, with two E's," she informed me perkily. Well, I was dumbfounded, with three D's. I shook her hand when she held it out, informing me she was there for the wedding, acting as bridesmaid to the bride. Whether I wanted to know or not, Kellee told me all about the dresses, flowers and every tiny detail of the wedding. I wanted to yawn in her face.
We went to dinner later with the new Packmaster and his Second, along with Kellee, of course. I was getting pretty good at gauging werewolf ages, too. Since I'd known Daryl and Winkler's ages, plus Whitney's, I knew Kellee was in her early twenties.
My mother would have described her as not having a lick of sense. She was giving Winkler an ego boost, though, making him out to be the big, tough werewolf and he was eating it up. More power to her, I guess. I wondered why she hadn't been forced to mate or marry or whatever they called it, but learned that her father was a Packmaster and whatever his little girl wanted, she got. It looked like she wanted Winkler. She was also doing a lot of talking during the meal. I just sat on Weldon's other side so Kellee wouldn't get upset if Winkler was sitting between two females.
More noise came from Winkler's room that night. I don't know how Weldon managed to sleep during the whole thing—he must have been really tired. The wedding and confirmation took place the following evening and Kellee was turning and smiling at Winkler the whole time she stood up with her friend. Weldon performed the ceremony, accepting the girl from her former Pack and turning her over to her new husband's Pack. I had to put all of it out of my mind and play nice with the two older werewolf women who sat beside me and asked personal questions. Eventually I told them I wasn't allowed to say how vampires had sex, just because I don't like answering those kinds of questions and the whole thing pissed me off.
Gavin called later, too, wanting to talk. I took my conversation outside Weldon's room so he wouldn't be disturbed. I also sent out emails to Merrill, Franklin and Charles and even checked in with Dalroy and Rhett, just to say hello.
"Is Kellee going to be traveling with us?" I asked Weldon the following night as I tossed clothing into my suitcase. We were driving back to Portland and would be flying to California the next day. I don't think Winkler and I had spoken two words to each other since Kellee had come along.
"She'll be with us for the rest of the trip," Weldon grumbled. He wasn't getting Winkler's attention, either.
"Maybe you should send him to Dallas and ask Davis to replace him," I said, zipping my bag.
"That's not a bad idea," Weldon considered the suggestion. "Davis certainly helped us out with the arrests and such. He got Winkler's attorneys out in force and sniffed out Kelvin so he could be picked up."
"Yeah." I'd called Davis to start with to get the ball rolling but I was used to not getting credit for anything.
Weldon presented the idea to Winkler later, and to say Winkler and Kellee didn't like the idea would have been an understatement. "I'll send for Glen; Kellee wants to see California and New Mexico," Winkler grumbled, pulling out his cell to make the call. I wanted to mimic that statement behind his back but I didn't. I went to the roof of the hotel for the first time in a long time instead. Glen met up with us in San Francisco; Kellee and Winkler left the Grand Master with Glen and went shopping. If Winkler ended up with Kellee, Whitney was going to have a shopping buddy, at least. Glen had caught the first flight out of Dallas and took over what Winkler had been doing up until that time. I made sure I got the key to my cooler back from Winkler and kept both of them.
Weldon had a dinner meeting with the San Francisco Packmaster while we were there. He wasn't new; he was a good friend of Weldon's and a big supporter. He was also one of the few g*y Packmasters. There were other g*ys in the werewolf world, male and female I learned, but they seldom went after the Packmaster position. Glen went with Weldon and that allowed me to explore San Francisco on my own. It felt like freedom to me as I wandered along Fisherman's Wharf, rode a cable car and generally had a good time. It was foggy, so I didn't get to see the Golden Gate or Alcatraz through the mist, which was a shame. I'd never been to the city before and might not get to come back for a while, if ever.
A man tried to pick me up while I sipped a glass of wine in a bar along the wharf. He wasn't going to give up easily, so an apology and a little compulsion turned his attention elsewhere. Tony called me while I was sitting there, finishing my wine. He'd tracked me on my new phone. Big surprise.