Ryan’s blue eyes searched mine, and I hated that I could see so much of our mother in them. “He really did it. He really named you.”
“Yeah. He really did. Ryan, you need to get the hell out of here before anyone else sees you. That’s all the mercy I’m ready to extend right now.”
“Just let me talk to Mom. You want me to swear loyalty? I’ll swear.” He dropped to his knees on the frozen ground and reached for my hand, but I pulled it out of his grasp. “Please, Faythe. If you don’t want to talk to me, fine. I understand. You’re not ready. But I can’t let her think I didn’t come. Please, Faythe. For Mom.”
“Get up.” I pulled him up before he could move on his own. “You have one hour,” I relented, against my better judgment. “If you’re still here after that, I’m locking your ass back up.”
He nodded stiffly. “Fair enough. Thank you.” I blinked, half-convinced I’d misheard him.
He rushed past me, probably afraid I’d change my mind, and I headed for the house without looking back. I couldn’t stand to see him with my mom, no matter how happy it made her to have him around, for no reason I could understand.
Inside, two groups had gathered, one in the kitchen, where there was coffee and several kinds of pie and cake, the other in the living room, where I could smell both whiskey and brandy being poured.
I passed them all and closed myself into the office alone, where I sank into the desk chair.
Twenty minutes later, I’d accomplished nothing more than staring at the back of my father’s armchair when the door opened and Marc appeared in the gap. “How you doin’?” he asked.
I could still smell dirt on him; he’d come straight to me, even before showering. “I’m fine.”
“They need you in the kitchen. Or the living room.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
He shrugged. “Nothing, other than the fact that your father was just buried and you’re ignoring everyone else who loved him.”
I closed my eyes and leaned forward on the desk, my face in my hands. “I’m sorry. I was just…”
“You don’t know how to be with them,” he finished for me, and I looked up at him, surprised. “Because you think this is your fault.”
“Yeah. I was supposed to protect him.”
“We all were,” Marc pointed out, as usual too rational to be argued with.
“Yeah, but he wasn’t just my Alpha. He was my dad. I failed him on both counts.”
Marc shook his head, but stayed put. He knew I needed space. “You didn’t fail him, or anyone.” He glanced at the papers and the phones on the desk in front of me. “In fact, I think he’d be proud.”
I shook my head. “I haven’t earned it yet. But I will.”
“Come have coffee with us.”
I sighed, but stood. “One cup.”
He smiled. “That’s a good start.”
But we only got halfway down the hall before a rumble from out front froze us both in place—then jolted us into motion. We reached the door together and peered through the glass panes side by side.
Cars. I’d heard the engines, but seeing them shot fear and adrenaline through my veins like lightning through the night sky. I didn’t recognize the vehicles, nor could I make out the faces behind the first dashboard from such a distance, but I knew who our uninvited guests were.
Malone. And his new Alpha wannabe.
Twenty-two
“Michael!” I shouted, still peering through the sidelight to the left of the door. I whirled to find Jace jogging toward me and Marc, still in his suit, his features tense with alarm.
“What’s wrong?” Jace slowed to a stop in the middle of the hall, peering over my shoulder through the glass.
“We’ve been preempted. Malone’s out front with enough men to fill—” I turned and glanced out front again, as more people poured into the hall, Michael in front of the small crowd “—it looks like eight cars.”
“Shit!” Jace swore.
“Who’s Malone?” Holly asked, holding a steaming mug of coffee in front of a stylish, knee-length black dress. She was in full make-up today, in light of our formal grief.
I ignored her question and focused on my fellow tabbies. “Manx, grab your diaper bag. Kaci, throw some stuff into your backpack. Quickly!” Then I met Michael’s gaze, the lines around his narrowed eyes the only sign that he was just as pissed and scared as I was. “I want you to take Holly, Manx, Des, Kaci, and Mom out back, through the woods. Leave your car here, and call Carey Dodd for a ride on the way.” Dodd was the closest nonenforcer tom in the south-central Pride, and he probably wouldn’t be surprised by emergency chauffeur duty, only a week after the last call.
He nodded, tense and ready for action. “Where are we going?”
“Um, you can’t go to Dodd’s. They’ll know his is the closest house, and when they realize Manx and Kaci are gone, they’ll look for you there.”
“Take them to my place,” Marc said, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood as he stomped out of the kitchen carrying a huge wrench, obviously ready for battle.
“No, that’s too far…” I started, my heartbeat ticking off seconds we didn’t have to waste, but I stopped when Jace stepped out from behind Marc, armed with a crowbar.
“That’s why they should go there,” he said, as Marc dug a set of keys from the pocket of his dress pants. “And Cal’s men won’t follow them into the free zone. Not now that the strays know what he pulled with those tracking chips.”
“Yeah. He really did. Ryan, you need to get the hell out of here before anyone else sees you. That’s all the mercy I’m ready to extend right now.”
“Just let me talk to Mom. You want me to swear loyalty? I’ll swear.” He dropped to his knees on the frozen ground and reached for my hand, but I pulled it out of his grasp. “Please, Faythe. If you don’t want to talk to me, fine. I understand. You’re not ready. But I can’t let her think I didn’t come. Please, Faythe. For Mom.”
“Get up.” I pulled him up before he could move on his own. “You have one hour,” I relented, against my better judgment. “If you’re still here after that, I’m locking your ass back up.”
He nodded stiffly. “Fair enough. Thank you.” I blinked, half-convinced I’d misheard him.
He rushed past me, probably afraid I’d change my mind, and I headed for the house without looking back. I couldn’t stand to see him with my mom, no matter how happy it made her to have him around, for no reason I could understand.
Inside, two groups had gathered, one in the kitchen, where there was coffee and several kinds of pie and cake, the other in the living room, where I could smell both whiskey and brandy being poured.
I passed them all and closed myself into the office alone, where I sank into the desk chair.
Twenty minutes later, I’d accomplished nothing more than staring at the back of my father’s armchair when the door opened and Marc appeared in the gap. “How you doin’?” he asked.
I could still smell dirt on him; he’d come straight to me, even before showering. “I’m fine.”
“They need you in the kitchen. Or the living room.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
He shrugged. “Nothing, other than the fact that your father was just buried and you’re ignoring everyone else who loved him.”
I closed my eyes and leaned forward on the desk, my face in my hands. “I’m sorry. I was just…”
“You don’t know how to be with them,” he finished for me, and I looked up at him, surprised. “Because you think this is your fault.”
“Yeah. I was supposed to protect him.”
“We all were,” Marc pointed out, as usual too rational to be argued with.
“Yeah, but he wasn’t just my Alpha. He was my dad. I failed him on both counts.”
Marc shook his head, but stayed put. He knew I needed space. “You didn’t fail him, or anyone.” He glanced at the papers and the phones on the desk in front of me. “In fact, I think he’d be proud.”
I shook my head. “I haven’t earned it yet. But I will.”
“Come have coffee with us.”
I sighed, but stood. “One cup.”
He smiled. “That’s a good start.”
But we only got halfway down the hall before a rumble from out front froze us both in place—then jolted us into motion. We reached the door together and peered through the glass panes side by side.
Cars. I’d heard the engines, but seeing them shot fear and adrenaline through my veins like lightning through the night sky. I didn’t recognize the vehicles, nor could I make out the faces behind the first dashboard from such a distance, but I knew who our uninvited guests were.
Malone. And his new Alpha wannabe.
Twenty-two
“Michael!” I shouted, still peering through the sidelight to the left of the door. I whirled to find Jace jogging toward me and Marc, still in his suit, his features tense with alarm.
“What’s wrong?” Jace slowed to a stop in the middle of the hall, peering over my shoulder through the glass.
“We’ve been preempted. Malone’s out front with enough men to fill—” I turned and glanced out front again, as more people poured into the hall, Michael in front of the small crowd “—it looks like eight cars.”
“Shit!” Jace swore.
“Who’s Malone?” Holly asked, holding a steaming mug of coffee in front of a stylish, knee-length black dress. She was in full make-up today, in light of our formal grief.
I ignored her question and focused on my fellow tabbies. “Manx, grab your diaper bag. Kaci, throw some stuff into your backpack. Quickly!” Then I met Michael’s gaze, the lines around his narrowed eyes the only sign that he was just as pissed and scared as I was. “I want you to take Holly, Manx, Des, Kaci, and Mom out back, through the woods. Leave your car here, and call Carey Dodd for a ride on the way.” Dodd was the closest nonenforcer tom in the south-central Pride, and he probably wouldn’t be surprised by emergency chauffeur duty, only a week after the last call.
He nodded, tense and ready for action. “Where are we going?”
“Um, you can’t go to Dodd’s. They’ll know his is the closest house, and when they realize Manx and Kaci are gone, they’ll look for you there.”
“Take them to my place,” Marc said, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood as he stomped out of the kitchen carrying a huge wrench, obviously ready for battle.
“No, that’s too far…” I started, my heartbeat ticking off seconds we didn’t have to waste, but I stopped when Jace stepped out from behind Marc, armed with a crowbar.
“That’s why they should go there,” he said, as Marc dug a set of keys from the pocket of his dress pants. “And Cal’s men won’t follow them into the free zone. Not now that the strays know what he pulled with those tracking chips.”
