At the moment, she looked confused and scared, but mostly mad, and my opinion of her went up another notch at the steady spark of anger in her eyes.
“As of now, we are officially in exile,” I began, when I was sure I had everyone’s attention. “However, I have a plan. We will take our territory back. But it’s going to take a few days to organize, which is actually kind of convenient, because it’s probably going to take a few days for me to heal. Right, Doc?” I forced a good-humored smile his way, and he tried to return it.
“At least.”
“Until then,” I continued. “This is home. I want everyone to get plenty of rest tonight, because tomorrow, we make plans to bury the new council chair. And don’t worry about the shovel shortage,” I said, glancing from face to determined face. “Because Calvin Malone has just dug his own grave.”
Twenty-five
“Holly, would you like a drink?” I asked, eyeing Michael, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that already. But he only shook his head, and I caught a flare of annoyance in his frown.
“She doesn’t drink. Alcohol has too many calories.”
And homemade cocoa doesn’t? I glanced from my brother to his wife, whose hands were actually shaking in her lap. “I think she’d make an exception today.”
Holly nodded, crossing her legs beneath her funeral skirt. “Something strong.” Maybe some of my clothes would fit her, until we could take her shopping.
Michael stood, and I called after him as he headed for the kitchen. “There should be several bottles left under the sink, and with any luck, the ice tray’s full. But I doubt there’s anything to mix with, other than Coke.”
While he poured, I glanced around the living room, assessing the general level of despair while I tried to decide how best to help my brother tell his wife that he wasn’t entirely human. And neither was his family.
We had a little more breathing room, with four of the toms gone on errands, but Marc’s small house was still a tight fit for a group our size. I’d sent my mother to lie down, and Jace had blown up one of the air mattresses in the front bedroom for Manx and Des, who were both already asleep. He’d blown the other one up for Kaci, but so far she’d refused to leave my side, and I couldn’t really blame her.
Owen, Brian, Carver, and Jace were playing poker at the card table in the kitchen, but had only made it through two hands so far, because Owen kept leaving to check on Manx, and Jace kept staring at me rather than at his hand.
Michael returned with a drink for his wife—whiskey and Coke, based on the scent—and sank onto the couch next to her, drawing in a long, tense breath. He was ready. But I couldn’t let him do it.
Disclosure of our existence to a human was a capital offense, punishable by an automatic death sentence. In this particular case, we had no choice—Holly obviously knew something was very, very wrong, and even her mafia fixation would cease to make sense once we started planning for the renaissance of the south-central Pride.
But I couldn’t give Malone a chance to take another brother from me or a husband from Holly. And if they didn’t want to kill me for handing Lance Pierce over to the thunderbirds, then disclosing our secret to Holly wouldn’t change that.
“Michael. Let me.”
He frowned. “Faythe…”
I shrugged. My Pride. My responsibility. “What are they going to do? Kill me twice?”
“You sure?” Michael asked, eyeing me closely.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, what the hell are you talking about?” Holly drained her short glass and coughed, then clutched it like nothing else in the world made sense at that moment. “If you’re not some kind of mob family, who were the men in those cars and how can they kick you out of your own home? And if we had to run away to protect the women and children, why did we leave Faythe behind?”
Michael put a hand on her arm, trying to calm her. “Faythe isn’t a woman—she’s an Alpha.”
I frowned at Michael, warning him not to say anything else. All the important facts needed to come from me, or he’d be opening himself up to serious trouble.
“Um, point of fact,” Jace chimed in from the card table, flaunting an actual grin—the first I’d seen in a while. “That’s not an either/or. She’s very definitely a woman, too.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed in irritation, but he refrained from replying, probably because his own personal life was in a bit of a shambles at the moment. He knew about me and Jace—we’d made a detail-less disclosure to the adult members of the household, out of necessity—but Kaci did not, so I shot Jace a censorious glance.
He shrugged in apology, but didn’t look very sorry.
“I’m not following any of this,” Holly snapped, and I had to respect her spirit. “Look, I know something’s wrong, and you guys have always been a little weird—sorry, but it’s true—and I’m sitting here scared to death that someone’s going to bust down the door with an automatic weapon and equalize us. So I wish you’d just spit it out. Whatever you have to say can’t be worse than what I’m imagining.”
“Don’t bet on that…” Kaci mumbled, and I put a hand on her arm to quiet her.
“You’re right.” I tried to smile at Holly to reassure her, but I couldn’t make my mouth cooperate. I was not in a smiley kind of place. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through today, and I know it must be scary. But I need you to be patient. And as openminded as you can possibly manage.”
“As of now, we are officially in exile,” I began, when I was sure I had everyone’s attention. “However, I have a plan. We will take our territory back. But it’s going to take a few days to organize, which is actually kind of convenient, because it’s probably going to take a few days for me to heal. Right, Doc?” I forced a good-humored smile his way, and he tried to return it.
“At least.”
“Until then,” I continued. “This is home. I want everyone to get plenty of rest tonight, because tomorrow, we make plans to bury the new council chair. And don’t worry about the shovel shortage,” I said, glancing from face to determined face. “Because Calvin Malone has just dug his own grave.”
Twenty-five
“Holly, would you like a drink?” I asked, eyeing Michael, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that already. But he only shook his head, and I caught a flare of annoyance in his frown.
“She doesn’t drink. Alcohol has too many calories.”
And homemade cocoa doesn’t? I glanced from my brother to his wife, whose hands were actually shaking in her lap. “I think she’d make an exception today.”
Holly nodded, crossing her legs beneath her funeral skirt. “Something strong.” Maybe some of my clothes would fit her, until we could take her shopping.
Michael stood, and I called after him as he headed for the kitchen. “There should be several bottles left under the sink, and with any luck, the ice tray’s full. But I doubt there’s anything to mix with, other than Coke.”
While he poured, I glanced around the living room, assessing the general level of despair while I tried to decide how best to help my brother tell his wife that he wasn’t entirely human. And neither was his family.
We had a little more breathing room, with four of the toms gone on errands, but Marc’s small house was still a tight fit for a group our size. I’d sent my mother to lie down, and Jace had blown up one of the air mattresses in the front bedroom for Manx and Des, who were both already asleep. He’d blown the other one up for Kaci, but so far she’d refused to leave my side, and I couldn’t really blame her.
Owen, Brian, Carver, and Jace were playing poker at the card table in the kitchen, but had only made it through two hands so far, because Owen kept leaving to check on Manx, and Jace kept staring at me rather than at his hand.
Michael returned with a drink for his wife—whiskey and Coke, based on the scent—and sank onto the couch next to her, drawing in a long, tense breath. He was ready. But I couldn’t let him do it.
Disclosure of our existence to a human was a capital offense, punishable by an automatic death sentence. In this particular case, we had no choice—Holly obviously knew something was very, very wrong, and even her mafia fixation would cease to make sense once we started planning for the renaissance of the south-central Pride.
But I couldn’t give Malone a chance to take another brother from me or a husband from Holly. And if they didn’t want to kill me for handing Lance Pierce over to the thunderbirds, then disclosing our secret to Holly wouldn’t change that.
“Michael. Let me.”
He frowned. “Faythe…”
I shrugged. My Pride. My responsibility. “What are they going to do? Kill me twice?”
“You sure?” Michael asked, eyeing me closely.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, what the hell are you talking about?” Holly drained her short glass and coughed, then clutched it like nothing else in the world made sense at that moment. “If you’re not some kind of mob family, who were the men in those cars and how can they kick you out of your own home? And if we had to run away to protect the women and children, why did we leave Faythe behind?”
Michael put a hand on her arm, trying to calm her. “Faythe isn’t a woman—she’s an Alpha.”
I frowned at Michael, warning him not to say anything else. All the important facts needed to come from me, or he’d be opening himself up to serious trouble.
“Um, point of fact,” Jace chimed in from the card table, flaunting an actual grin—the first I’d seen in a while. “That’s not an either/or. She’s very definitely a woman, too.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed in irritation, but he refrained from replying, probably because his own personal life was in a bit of a shambles at the moment. He knew about me and Jace—we’d made a detail-less disclosure to the adult members of the household, out of necessity—but Kaci did not, so I shot Jace a censorious glance.
He shrugged in apology, but didn’t look very sorry.
“I’m not following any of this,” Holly snapped, and I had to respect her spirit. “Look, I know something’s wrong, and you guys have always been a little weird—sorry, but it’s true—and I’m sitting here scared to death that someone’s going to bust down the door with an automatic weapon and equalize us. So I wish you’d just spit it out. Whatever you have to say can’t be worse than what I’m imagining.”
“Don’t bet on that…” Kaci mumbled, and I put a hand on her arm to quiet her.
“You’re right.” I tried to smile at Holly to reassure her, but I couldn’t make my mouth cooperate. I was not in a smiley kind of place. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through today, and I know it must be scary. But I need you to be patient. And as openminded as you can possibly manage.”
