Thirteen
Page 60

When she sparred with Clay, he held back a little. Even with his bad arm, he was still an experienced werewolf in his prime. If he gave it his all, she couldn’t beat him. Her brain insisted that Malcolm was an old man and she was Alpha-elect, damn it—she should be able to beat him. But she couldn’t. It was like fighting Clay full out … after she’d gone two days without sleep and fought off a battalion of trained Cabal guards.
Soon Malcolm was landing more blows than she was. Even with Savannah discreetly casting knockbacks to push him off balance, Elena was barely holding her own. Then a solid blow to the jaw sent her down. Before she could scramble up, Malcolm was straddling her, pinning her on her back. Savannah started forward, but Elena lifted her fingers, telling her to wait. She looked up at Malcolm, widened her eyes, and poured in every ounce of that old fear she could dredge up.
He smiled. His hand moved to her side, then slid up toward her breast as he bent over. “Is this what you wanted, my dear? I think it—”
She head-butted his jaw, catching his tongue between his teeth. As he snarled, she yanked one arm free and smashed it into his nose. Blood spurted. Elena shoved him off and sprang to her feet. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Savannah rushing in. Elena waved her back, but the move caught Malcolm’s attention and with one last rage-filled glance at her, he charged Savannah. Elena sprang at him just as the door flew open.
Clay came in, muttering, “Easy to find you two. Savannah left the damned door ajar—”
He stopped. So did Malcolm. Elena was already in flight and hit him square in the back. She pinned him this time, face down on the floor.
Then Elena looked up and saw Clay’s face. Saw the shock on it. Utter, stomach-dropping shock. She’d wanted to spare him this. If she couldn’t spare him, at least she wanted to warn him. But it was too late. It took only a split second for that shock to harden, his eyes going colder than she’d ever seen them. And in another split second, that look vanished, too.
Clay strolled over to them. “Well, if I ever had to see you again, Malcolm, I suppose this is the way I’d choose.” He crouched. “Taken down by a woman, huh? Probably rather just let everyone go on thinking you were already dead.”
Malcolm bucked and snarled, but Elena had him pinned by the shoulders. She moved her knee up his spine and pushed down. As he hissed, she grabbed a handful of his hair and ground his broken nose against the hardwood.
“You better call off your bitch,” Malcolm said, his breathing ragged with pain. “She already threatened to snap my neck.”
Clay rested on his haunches and looked at Elena. “Did you say that, darling?”
“I did. Of course, I was hoping to do it before you realized he was alive. But now’s a good time, too.”
He laughed, and when he did, his blue eyes glittered, all traces of hatred and rage consumed by something else. Anticipation. And when Elena saw that, she was glad she hadn’t snapped Malcolm’s neck.
“You’re not going to let her kill me, Clayton.”
“Oh, Elena pretty much does as she pleases.”
Malcolm snorted, as if to say that was where Clay had failed as a husband. “Perhaps, but if you wanted me dead, you’d have done it years ago.”
“Would I?”
“Yes. And you didn’t, because as much as you pretended otherwise, there was a bond between us. You were loyal to Jeremy, but I was the one who understood you.”
“Huh. Well, I’d disagree, but I know one person who does understand me.” He looked up as Elena climbed off Malcolm.
“Thank you, darling.”
“Anytime.”
Malcolm smirked and started getting to his feet. A left hook from Clay knocked him back off them. Clay grabbed Malcolm before he could regain his footing.
“Do you know why he didn’t kill you all those years ago?” Elena said. “Because Jeremy would know Clay did it for him and he’d feel guilty. But Jeremy’s not here now. And he already thinks you’re dead. Which means I should thank you. Because today I get to give my husband a gift that’ll last me through a whole lotta anniversaries.”
Clay grinned. “And he appreciates it.”
“Good, but as much as I’d love to let you savor the moment, we are mid-escape here.”
“Don’t worry. This will be quick.”
He ducked Malcolm’s swing and threw him across the room. Malcolm bounced back fast, but now he was the one who was winded and battered from fighting. One look at Malcolm had given Clay all the energy he needed.
“Maybe quicker than I thought,” Clay said as he waited for Malcolm to recover from the next two blows. “This isn’t the fight I always imagined.”
“He’s old,” Elena said.
Malcolm snarled and ran at her. Clay tripped him, but Malcolm managed to keep his balance and get out of the way as Clay charged.
“If you want a proper fight, Clayton, let me go,” Malcolm said. “Challenge me later. Neither of us is in top form right now. You won’t get any glory from this bout if no one knows I’m still alive.”
“Glory?” Clay shook his head. “I don’t give a shit about glory, Malcolm. Have you forgotten that?”
“You care about your reputation. I know what you did—”
“Everyone knows what I did. That was the point. I only care about my reputation if it keeps my Alpha and my family safe. I won’t be keeping them safe if you walk away. I let you do that twenty-five years ago. I’m not doing it again.”
He charged. Malcolm feinted, but Clay managed to land a blow that sent him to the floor. As Clay bore down on him, the door burst open, and two guards ran in, guns drawn.
Savannah lifted her hands in a spell.
 
“Don’t do that, miss,” the man in front said. “We’re not going to stop you from leaving, but we do need that werewolf.”
Elena glanced over at Clay. She wanted to tell him not to listen, just go ahead, finish Malcolm off. For Jeremy’s sake, they had to kill Malcolm and never let Jeremy know he’d been alive. But when Clay glanced toward Malcolm, the guns swung his way.
“Please,” the guard said. “I don’t have any quarrel with the Pack, but I was sent to get this one. I need you to walk away.”
“Do you?” Elena said, meeting the man’s gaze. “What if you came in and he was already dead?”