The Bare Truth part 2

Chapter 13

"Sierra...Sierra wake up."

Sierra opened her eyes groggily. She was still naked and tangled up in Joe's sheets. Cinnamon was sleeping by her feet, snoring.

Joe was shaking her lightly, trying to wake her. He was showered and dressed in one of his better suits. Based on the half-light streaming through the window, it was just passed dawn.

"Sierra," he prodded her, "You have to get ready now or we'll miss our flight."

Sierra blinked and tried to process his words.

"Our flight?" she asked. "Where are we flying?"

"Atlanta."

She sat up in bed, fixing her tousled hair.

"Why are we flying to Atlanta?"

*****

Two hours later they were sitting in first class on their way to Georgia. Sierra sipped her fourth cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in soon.

"Dorrian claims he has control of 58 packs," Joe said and he consulted a legal pad filled with scribbled notes. "The closest is a pack in Atlanta. Werewolves. The pack leader's name is Pearl. She just so happens to be an old friend of mine. We're meeting her for dinner."

"And what do you hope to gain from this dinner?" Sierra asked.

"Dorrian's a tyrant," Joe said. "It's not loyalty that binds these packs to him. It's fear. Fear, mostly, or the strength of these other packs. But if I can convince them to turn on him, he won't have the power to back up his threats. So we start with Pearl, and then we convince 57 more Alphas."

Sierra nodded and nibbled her in-flight peanuts.

"We won't need 57 more," she countered. "We'd need...20. Maybe less. Dorrian's a business man. We don't need all of them. We just need enough that if he tried to take control back he'd loose too many people. We need enough that it's no longer cost effective for him."

Two hours later they landed at Atlanta International Airport. As they stepped out the front doors Sierra was hit with a humidity so thick for a moment she couldn't breath. She peeled off her coat and squinted up at the sun as Joe helped their driver load their luggage into the town car. Sierra climbed into the shaded car gratefully, sucking in the cool, air conditioned air. Joe noticed and laughed at her.

"They have this thing here in Georgia," he told her. "It's called sunlight. Not sure if you've heard of it."

Sierra rolled her eyes at him and reached for a bottled water, already missing the rainy skies in Washington.

The town car took them to their hotel, where Joe and Sierra showered and changed for dinner. Joe eyed her with lust and approval as she stepped out of the bathroom in a short, green dress and heels. She turned to the mirror to put in her earrings and watched Joe's reflection staring at her.

"What?" she asked him.

Joe stood behind her and kissed a line from her neck to her shoulder.

"I think we can be a little late," he said.

45 minutes later they were back in the town car and Sierra was trying valiantly to fix her hair again. She finally gave up on trying to re-tame the curls and pulled it back into a loose bun.

Pearl lived in a sprawling old plantation house at the end of an unmarked dirt road. Bright green ivy crept up the sides of the white building. There were wolves wandering all over the property, most of them currently taking naps in patches of sunlight on the wide front porch. An old woman was waiting for them by the door. She wore a flowered dress that went well with her wide brimmed, pink sun hat and had her long, white hair neatly pinned in a bun. She looked like the perfect caricature of a southern belle. She smiled a broad, gap toothed grin as they stepped out of the car.

"Well, bless my soul. Joe, you are a sight for sore eyes," she said in a heavy southern accent.

Joe took her hand in his and kissed it.

"You're a vision, Pearl. Is that a new hat?"

"Oh, you flatter an old woman," she said with a smile. "And who is your lovely friend?"

"This is my mate, Sierra."

Sierra tried not to let the terminology give her pause. Pearl pulled her into a hug.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you sugar. It's about time our boy settled down. I'm immortal and I still never thought I'd live to see the day."

Pearl invited them in, pausing to scratch one of the wolves on the head affectionately before leading them though the grand front doors. She led them from the marble foyer into the dining room, where dinner was just being served. The table was resplendent in white linens and fine china. There was fried chicken, corn bread, cheese grits (Sierra had to ask what a "grit" was), and collard greens, along with plenty of sweet tea and homemade peach ice cream for dessert.

Joe kept the conversation casual throughout the meal, asking about how her pack was doing and where her adorable grandchildren were. Other pack members filtered in and out of the room as they ate, some staying to chat, others just eyeing them curiously before snagging a piece of chicken. It wasn't until they were sipping an after dinner brandy in the parlor that Joe brought up why they were here.

"I've been approached by Dorrian Taylor about joining his Alliance," he said.

Pearl's smile stiffened. She took another quiet sip of her brandy.

"Pearl," Joe said, "You are a singular and powerful lady, with a pack of over a hundred."

"It's almost 200 now," Pearl corrected.

"Why would you give an inch to this tyrant?" Joe asked.

Pearl looked offended. She wouldn't meet Joe's eye, speaking instead to her brandy sifter.

"Joe," she said, "I want you to listen to me very carefully now. I don't have any objection to Dorrian being in charge. I don't see any call to stir up trouble. And know it'll hurt your pride, but I advise you to give that man what he wants."

"But you have a pack of 200," Sierra protested. "We have 80 bears. And if we can convince others to join us-"

Pearl stood.

"Now you listen, young lady. I don't think you're hearin' me. I'm not interested in what you're planning. I don't want any trouble. And if ya'll are planning to stir things up, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Pearl's face was stern as she showed them to the door. She shut it behind them with a bang, and threw to bolt. The wolves on the porch eyed them as they made their way down the steps and back to their car.

"She's scared," Sierra said.

"Yes," Joe said, shaking his head. "And Pearl isn't scared of anything."

Their car started down the long dirt drive, away from the plantation.

"We'll keep trying," Sierra said finally, breaking the silence. "There's still 57 more packs."

"Yeah." Joe agreed. "Maybe Pearl's finally gone soft. We'll keep trying."