Gray Bishop (24 page)

Her face scrunched. “Okay.”

“And do me one favor?”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t tell Rook about the vision.”

Her lips parted, then pressed shut hard. “He deserves to know.”

“He wasn’t featured, and I don’t need this on his shoulders tonight. Please.”

“Fine.”

“I’ll walk back with you,” Jillian said. “I want to introduce you to the Alphas, particularly Weatherly.”

“Right.” She squared her shoulders and put away some of her fear. “Bishop, I’ll text to confirm he’s the other man in my vision.”

“Thank you,” Bishop said.

She left as abruptly as she’d arrived. Jillian hesitated a moment, sharing a commiserating look with him before following Brynn downstairs.

Bishop gave in to his frustration and paced the length of the office, from the wide window to the bathroom in the rear. Already unsettled by his decision to name Rook his second, the vision had rattled him further. Made him second-guess himself. On a normal day, he’d have probably sought out Knight and used him as a sounding board. Knight used to be the logical, even-tempered one in the family.

Knight couldn’t answer, but talking it out near him might still help.

Bishop needed all the help he could get.

***

“Should I have told him?”

The miserable tone of Brynn’s voice had Jillian slipping an arm across the smaller woman’s shoulders before she reconsidered. “Telling Bishop about the vision was the right thing.”

“But now he’s second-guessing himself. I hate that I did that.”

“You didn’t do anything. Your visions have guided our actions in the past, and Bishop trusts you. He needed to know what you saw.”

“I wish I’d seen more.”

So did Jillian. The vision all but proved Colin won the fight tomorrow. There was no other explanation for the injuries Brynn saw, or for him being alive after a challenge to the death. But to first defeat Rook in hand-to-hand combat, and then Bishop?

No, Jillian had faith in Bishop’s ability to win. She would not lose that faith now, not after a snippet of something only seen in the mind of a half-Magus.

They strolled the sidewalk in silence, nodding to the occasional passerby. Smythe’s Restaurant was bustling with business, and a short line spilled out the door. Bits and snips of gossip about the visiting Alphas and tomorrow’s challenge drifted to Jillian’s ears. She ignored what she could. No one stopped small-town gossip, not even the Alpha female. Her presence might still it until she passed, then the whispers would begin again.

She’d experienced it for most of her life.

They turned down the side street at a leisurely pace. Dinner wasn’t for thirty minutes or so, and Jillian didn’t relish another fancy sit-down dinner with three Alphas at the table. She much preferred casual meals around the picnic table. The kind they’d still had only a week ago, before this latest round of hybrid attacks.

Brynn stumbled, falling forward. Jillian grabbed her shoulders tighter, keeping her from pitching face-first onto the sidewalk. Brynn pressed a palm against her brow, eyes shut, and concern had Jillian stopping them both where they stood.

“Hey, you all right?” Jillian asked. “Another vision?”

“No.” Brynn blinked hard. “I’m sorry, I got a little dizzy.”

“Has this happened before?”

“No. It’s probably stress.” She tugged away from Jillian, then smoothed the front of her sundress. “I’m okay, really.”

Jillian scowled. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Breakfast. I thought about lunch, but I was busy. And it was hot today.”

“Plus you’re already thin as a rail. You have to take care of yourself, too, Brynn. Rook doesn’t need to have his head on you tomorrow when he’s fighting Colin.”

Brynn flushed. “I know. You’re right. We’re heading in for dinner. I’ll be more careful.” Her expression pained. “If he dies tomorrow, it won’t matter much, will it?”

“Rook isn’t dying tomorrow. You need to have faith in that. Have faith in your mate, no matter what your vision might be insinuating.”

“Do you have faith in yours?”

Jillian startled. “What?”

“I may be only half-loup, but I do have eyes. You and Bishop show more when you don’t look at each other than when you do.”

This time it was Jillian who blushed.

Brynn smiled. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not embarrassed about him. I’ve never been good at discussing my private life with others.”

“If it helps at all, neither am I. I never had good friends growing up, because I was considered second-class. No one my age wanted to bother, or if they did, their parents didn’t approve.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“It was.” Her smile widened, brightened her entire face. “And then I came here and found an entire family who accepted me. I have friends. I have a sister.”

In all of the insanity surrounding their lives, Jillian often forgot that Brynn and Shay biologically shared a mother. “You lucked out in coming here.”

“We both did. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but I don’t believe our paths intersect randomly. Everything happens for a reason, even devastating loss.”

Jillian pushed aside a wave of grief. “Is this to do with your visions?”

“No. I’ve always believed that. I know you grieve for your father, just as Bishop grieves for his, but their passing allows you to be together. You’d have been forced to give up your mate otherwise.”

The notion hadn’t escaped Jillian, but hearing it spoken so plainly drove the point home. The night before Springwell was massacred, she had accepted losing Bishop and marrying Mason for the good of the run. She missed her father, and she hated how terribly he’d died, but Brynn was right. Her father’s death and the destruction of the town had given her the chance to be with her mate—two huge costs that would forever unbalance her world. She could learn to love Bishop. She could be happy with him, raise a family with him.

The price of those things would hang over her for the rest of her life.

“I said the wrong thing, didn’t I?” Brynn asked.

“No, you only told the truth.” Jillian gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “And I don’t have my mate yet.”

“Seven more days?”

“Yes, seven more days.” She studied Brynn’s pale and pinched face, really seeing the young woman for the first time. Seeing how hard she was fighting to keep herself together. “Are you worried about more than just Rook fighting tomorrow?”

Brynn’s lips twitched. “You mean besides Knight’s condition, the location of the hybrids, when they might attack again, and just how deeply involved the Congress of Magi and my father are in all of this?”

“Well, when you list it out like that . . .” Jillian sighed. “Stupid question, I suppose.”

“It’s all connected, really. I’m confident in Rook’s ability to fight, and I admit that confidence has been shaken a bit by my vision. I’m terrified of what will happen if he dies, or if Bishop isn’t named Alpha. I may not be allowed to stay here.”

“Brynn, I can’t promise you’ll be allowed to stay no matter what, but I will be Alpha female. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you aren’t sent away. That I can promise.”

“Thank you. Sincerely.”

“You’re welcome.”

They continued on to the house, which blazed with light and the hum of voices. Jillian led the way into a living room that had been overtaken by the three visiting Alphas, Rook, Colin, Jonas, and Shay. Jillian was impressed that Shay had torn herself away from Knight for this, but she had a stake in the outcome, too. Brynn was her sister, and Shay was the daughter of one of their slain Alphas. This was her revenge, as well.

Brynn was introduced by Rook, to a cool welcome from Parks. Montgomery and Weatherly were more polite. Brynn didn’t seem to take it personally. She did nod in Jillian’s general direction, then tilt her head at Weatherly—he was the other man in her vision. Jillian sent the text to Bishop.

“How has your afternoon been?” Colin asked her after cornering her near the front windows. He stood at a respectable distance, but she couldn’t help disliking his nearness.

“Busy,” Jillian replied. She tried to imagine him as Brynn had described him, bruised and battered. She liked the image, but not at the expense of her mate’s life. “There’s still so much to coordinate as we unite the runs.”

“Of course there is. And yourself? How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine.” The question baffled her. Did she look ill?

“I’m sorry, I sound idiotic. I meant emotionally. You’ve suffered such a loss.” Colin ducked his head a bit, not meeting her eye. An unusual stance for a Black Wolf. Surely he wasn’t shy.

“I’m coping, thank you for asking.” Enemy or not, he wasn’t a terrible man, and she couldn’t make herself treat him rudely. “How are you? Missing home?”

He lifted his shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “Sometimes. My brother and sister, mostly.”

“I didn’t realize you had a sister.”

“She’s the youngest, just turned eighteen. Spunky for a Gray Wolf.”

“Most teenagers are.”

“True enough.” Colin cleared his throat. “Do you, ah, have any siblings?”

Jillian nearly laughed in his face—not only at the absurdity of the question, given what had happened at Springwell, but at his lame attempts at getting-to-know-you conversation. “No, I’m an only child.”

“That’s unusual for an Alpha, isn’t it?”

Translation: why didn’t her father keep going until he got a son?

“I was a difficult pregnancy for my mother,” Jillian said, irritated by the personal question. “My parents were unable to conceive again.”

“I’m sorry, you must think I’m terribly rude.”

She bit back an affirmation, stopped by the pallor of his complexion. She studied the blond man, a little surprised to realize he was trembling very faintly. He was scared—of her, of Bishop, of the challenge, she didn’t know. And in the moment, it didn’t really matter.

She tried on a friendly smile. “I think you’re a little out of your element in social situations such as this,” she said. “I admit, I’m not a big fan of small talk, either. I can manage in a pinch, but it isn’t my forte.”

“I imagine you can do anything you set your mind to.”

The front door opened before she could respond to the compliment. Every full-blood loup in the room was a Black Wolf, but conversation stopped and heads turned when Bishop McQueen stepped into the living room. He walked with his father’s assured ease, his head high, shoulder’s back, every bit the Alpha of Cornerstone, title or not. Jillian shivered, excited by his presence, proud that this man was her mate.

“Good evening, everyone,” Bishop said, an inclusive greeting that allowed conversations to resume.

His wandering gaze swept over the room, landing on Jillian and Colin last. His eyes narrowed. Something very much like jealousy sparked and it thrilled her. Bishop had no reason to be jealous, and he knew it, but the instinctive reaction only enforced what they already felt. Colin took an actual step to the side when Bishop joined them.

“Has Mrs. Troost let you in on what she’s feeding our guests?” Bishop asked, as though they had no more pressing matters than the menu.

“Not yet.” Jillian made a show of sniffing the air. “I’d put money on a turkey. Big enough to serve this lot and still a special-occasion meal.”

“She’d have to make two.”

“I don’t think she’d mind. I’ve never met a woman who loves cooking for her men as much as Mrs. Troost does.” A question she’d never asked popped into Jillian’s mind. “How long has she been your housekeeper?”

Bishop’s eyes shadowed briefly. “She was our mother’s best friend. She moved herself in the day after our mother was killed, and she’s been taking care of us since.”

Twenty-plus years and still ruling the roost.

“That’s unusual, isn’t it?” Colin asked. “Another woman moving into the Alpha’s home so soon after the Alpha female’s death?”

Jillian braced herself for trouble, but Bishop remained oddly calm.

“Perhaps in Rockpoint it is,” Bishop replied. “Here it was a family friend keeping a grieving family from falling apart. Our father had a newborn to deal with, on top of two other kids, a sneak attack on the run, and a grief-stricken community who’d just lost its White Wolf.”

Colin floundered a bit. “It sounds as though she was a great help.”

“She was. She still is.”

As if conjured by their conversation, Mrs. Troost appeared in the doorway between the living room and dining room. “Supper is ready,” she announced, then disappeared again.

Jillian didn’t move, unsure of the protocol here. Parks and Montgomery both looked to Weatherly, who stood up first—the most senior Alpha in the room. Knowing that made her very, very glad that Weatherly was on their side.

Dinner was the biggest exercise in control of Bishop’s life. Not only did he have to make small talk with Alphas who had twenty and thirty years of experience on him, but he had to do it with Jillian at the far end of the table. Thankfully Colin wasn’t seated next to her. He’d been put between Shay and Jonas, and Shay glared at Colin every chance she got. Her blatant dislike amused Bishop, as did the appearance of such a spirited young woman where only a few weeks ago a shell had been.

Waiting through the ritual of coffee and dessert frayed the edges of Bishop’s nerves, and he was grateful when Rook finally asked Weatherly if they were ready to begin scouting for a fight location.

“Yes, we should get started,” Weatherly replied.

“Excellent.” Rook stood, cell phone in hand. “I’ll call your escort to the house.”

Bishop hung around sipping coffee he didn’t want to drink until Winston collected the three Alphas for their walkabout. He had no duty to entertain Colin, and being around Jillian would make him do things he’d probably get into trouble for later. He excused himself from the house and walked across the street to Dr. Mike’s—the place he’d wanted to go ever since Brynn revealed her latest vision.

The waiting room was empty, so Bishop didn’t have to bother chitchatting with anyone. Knight had been moved upstairs earlier that morning after another patient—a young Black Wolf from Springwell named Noah, who’d had deep lacerations on his chest and abdomen—was discharged and given a bed in the auction house. The same room where Knight had nursed Shay through her own injuries and subsequent catatonia. The only change was the patient and the cot they’d shoved up against the far wall. No one had said anything directly to Bishop about an unmarried Black female sleeping in the same room as an unmarried male. No one would.

He had no doubt that if the town was fully aware of what was happening on the second floor of Dr. Mike’s and how ill Knight was, he and Shay would be the subject of every single gossip circle. So far they’d been lucky. When Knight didn’t appear to stand with Bishop during tomorrow’s challenge, people would ask questions.

The room had a faintly floral aroma. Essential oils or something. Shay had mentioned it might help drawn Knight back to them. Bishop was willing to try anything.

Knight was propped up on pillows, his pale skin almost yellow against the white sheets. He had dark smudges under both eyes, and some irritation around the tape keeping the nasal-gastric feeding tube in place. Knight was often quiet, but Bishop hated seeing his brother so still.

Rachel was dozing in the chair beside the bed. Shay’s decree that Knight never be alone had been followed to the letter. Bishop cleared his throat, startling the young half-breed awake.

She blinked up at him, then blushed. “Apologies, sir. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

“It’s okay, Rachel. You’ve worked hard these last few days. I’m sure you needed the rest.”

“I exercised his legs a little while ago, but there’s been no change.”

“I appreciate it. Can I have fifteen minutes?”

“Of course, you can have as long as you need.” She popped out of the chair, strangely flustered. “Am I supposed to wish you good luck tomorrow?”

He offered a gentle smile. “It can’t hurt.”

“Then good luck, sir. I can’t imagine anyone but you as Alpha here.”

“Thank you, Rachel.”

She closed the door when she left. Bishop settled at the foot of the bed, studying the still form in front of him. Trying to tell himself that Knight was only sleeping, and he’d wake up at any moment. Give him the advice he so desperately needed.

“You were missed at supper. You’ve been missed these last few days, obviously, but I could have used you tonight. I definitely need you tomorrow.

“You and I aren’t known for our long conversations, but I’d talk your ear off right now if you’d let me. Then again, you can’t really stop me, can you? So here goes. Brynn had another vision and it’s got me pretty turned around.”

Bishop described the vision as Brynn described it to him. “It worries me. If Weatherly is here and Colin is in that bed, then it means I fought Colin and lost, which means Rook loses to him, too. Then again, the vision could be the aftermath of another hybrid attack and have nothing to do with the challenge, but the injuries aren’t consistent with that. We don’t have enough details to pick the time frame.

“I never got to ask your opinion on Rook fighting for me. Rook is probably the strongest of the three of us, but I taught him how to fight in skin, as well as beast. We always assume that the Black is stronger than the Gray, no matter the individual circumstances. Rook and I have never fought one-on-one for keeps. Who’s to say who would win?”

He shifted up the bed a bit, close enough to cover Knight’s hand with his palm. Knight’s skin was cool and dry. “I’m sure you’ve noticed, but Shay’s been here almost constantly since she brought you back from your shift. She’s a very special woman, brother. You’d better wake up soon so you can thank her properly. I think our father would have approved of her.”

The old familiar ache of grief settled in Bishop’s chest. “We all hate the circumstances, but Shay is here for a reason. Maybe she’s here for you, like Jillian is here for me. I wonder if the universe really works that way.” He didn’t want to think he’d only met his mate because of the murder of hundreds of innocent loup.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do tomorrow, and you’re the only person I’d admit that to. You’d help me figure it out, because you’re good at that. We all rely on you for advice, and maybe we’ve put too much on you these last few weeks. If I’d really understood what happened to you, I’d have . . . I don’t know. Maybe you wouldn’t have isolated your emotions from us so much. Maybe it wouldn’t have come to this.

“Too many maybes and what ifs, right? That’s what Father would say. We can’t rely on hindsight, all we can do is deal with the problem in front of us. And the problem in front of me right now is Colin Corman.”

The knock on the door startled him. He wasn’t used to people sneaking up on him. “Come in.”

Rook poked his head in the door. “Rachel said you were up here. She went for a walk with Shay. Figured Shay needed the distraction.”

“She’s been up here nonstop.”

“I know.” Rook slipped inside and shut the door. “It’s weird seeing him like this.”

“Yeah.” Bishop nodded toward the chair. “Sit down for a bit. There’s something I wanted to tell you both before the fight tomorrow. I kept putting it off but time’s running out.”

His brother perched on the edge of the chair, tension thrumming off him in waves. “What’s wrong?”

“The night Colin arrived in town, we had a chat on the patio about why he’s here.”

“I thought that was pretty damned obvious.”

“Challenging me was his father’s idea.”

Rook snorted. “Yeah, and looks like sonny boy hopped to it, didn’t he?”

“You would, too, if saying no meant losing your tail.”

“What?”

“Apparently Alpha Corman still relies on the older, more barbaric forms of punishment. Colin told me about a young loup who’d been punished this way. The boy was humiliated, in terrible pain, and eventually jumped into a river.”

Rook grimaced. “That’s . . . I don’t . . .”

“Exactly.”

“His own father actually threatened to take his tail if he didn’t come here and challenge for Alpha?”

“According to Colin, yes.”

“But why? Why’s Corman got his sights set on us?”

“Mom.”

Rook’s eyebrows furrowed. “Mom?”

“Our mother grew up in Rockpoint, and she was sent here to be Cornerstone’s White Wolf when she was fifteen.”

“I know that.”

“Apparently until she was sent away, our mother and Burt Corman were childhood friends, and then teenage sweethearts. He was furious when she was sent away, and he’s harbored a grudge against our father and our run ever since.”

“For thirty-plus years?”

“Yes.”

“This all feels like a bad punch line.” Rook glanced at the bed, then stood up and paced to the window. “Fuck, this is all we need. An Alpha who can’t let go of the past and who’s using his own son for some sideways revenge against our father, who’s
dead
. Isn’t that revenge enough?”

Bishop didn’t respond to his brother’s anger. He needed to keep his own cool. “Apparently not. Colin asked me to keep this in confidence, but he agreed to let me tell you and Knight. Until the challenge is over, I’d prefer you keep it to yourself.”

Rook glared over his shoulder, then nodded. “Fine.”

“The fact that he told me at all says something about Colin’s character.”

“Such as?”

“He’s honest. He’s trying to do the right thing under harsh circumstances.”

“Poor guy.” The sarcasm was hard to miss.

“Rook.”

“Sorry.” Rook’s tone said otherwise. “Look, he was honest about his dad’s backhanded way of getting a finger in our run. Fantastic. It doesn’t change what has to happen tomorrow.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” Bishop stood and faced his brother, the decision made before he said the words. “I’m fighting Colin tomorrow.”

Rook jerked back as though struck. “What?”

“I’m not calling you as second. I’m fighting.”

“Bishop—”

“My mind is made up, Rook, and before you ask this has nothing to do with my faith in your fighting skills. I have to do this.”

Win or lose, Bishop would not risk Knight waking up to a world where both of his brothers were dead. He would not make Brynn a widow before she was even a wife.

Rook took two long steps forward, his eyes blazing with different emotions—anger, surprise, hurt. He held Bishop’s gaze for a long time. And then blinked first. “Why did you change your mind?”

He didn’t know about Brynn’s latest vision, and Bishop had no compulsion to change that. All he had left was instinct. “I asked myself what would Thomas McQueen do.”

Grief flirted with Rook’s anger. “And?”

“He would carefully assess all information in his possession in order to make a decision. He would also face any challenge head-on. He wouldn’t send someone else into a situation that he would not first take on himself.”

“He would fight anyone who challenged his position as Alpha.”

“Yes he would.”

Rook scratched the left side of his face, his expression giving away nothing. “He would also use every means at his disposal to ensure the safety of the run. He’d ask for help if he needed it. He died doing that.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Rook, but I won’t send you to your death, too.”

“My death?” His eyes narrowed. “What do you know? Did Brynn see something?”

“She’ll tell you tomorrow after I fight Colin.”

“Bishop—”

“Tomorrow. I’ve made up my mind on this, and I’ll inform Weatherly about the change tonight once he’s announced the challenge site.” If Bishop was to believe that Brynn’s visions always came true, then he very well might be going to his death in the morning, but Rook and Knight would still have each other.

If her visions could be changed by altering an intended path, he may still have a chance to win. In twelve hours, they’d all know for certain.

***

Jillian found him inside of the dilapidated Chesterfield barn. A half-moon shone down, its light barely penetrating the interior gloom. Most of the actual stalls were missing, only a few support beams still in place. The floor had been swept clear, all debris from the last battle there removed. She hadn’t been back since that night. The barn no longer smelled of blood and death, but that would change in few scant hours.

Bishop stood near the north side of the open floor, hands on his hips, head down. He didn’t react to her arrival.

“You should try to get some sleep,” she said softly. It was too quiet to speak with any real volume.

“I could say the same to you. It’s got to be after midnight.”

“Past one, actually. The sun will be up in a few hours.”

He didn’t reply. She circled him, keeping a respectable distance when everything inside of her craved his touch. He stared at the ground, at nothing in particular that she could see on the hard-packed earth.

“How did Rook take the news?” she asked.

“With a lot more grace than I expected.” Bishop looked at her then, his gaze clear. Determined. “I thought he’d argue like he did before.”

“That says a lot about his trust in your judgment.”

“Maybe he’s tired of arguing with me.”

“He’s your brother. He’ll never get tired of arguing with you.”

His lips quirked. “I wish Knight was going to be here.”

“His spirit is here. So is your father’s.”

“If any ghost is going to haunt me, shouldn’t it be Mitch Geary? I killed him right here.”

“Geary got what he deserved.”

“He was an Alpha.”

“He was a traitor. He made a deal with the enemy, and he tried to kill Rook. You saved Rook and Brynn, and probably more lives in the long run if he’d continued doing the hybrids’ dirty work.”

“Knowing he deserved it doesn’t make taking a life any easier.”

“You don’t want to kill Colin.”

“No.”

“But you have to for the best interest of the run.”

“Yes.”

“There’s no changing the death challenge to defeat?”

“I’ve already changed my mind on having a second, and Colin would never agree to it.”

“How do you know?”

His expression hardened, then softened into a frown. “Something Colin told me in confidence. Ask me again tomorrow, okay?”

“Count on it.” She studied the chosen arena. Not a lot of room for spectators. “I wonder why they chose the barn.”

“It’s spacious but also enclosed. Keeps us from battling all over the place, I guess. And it limits who watches.”

“The whole town is going to be outside listening.”

“Probably so.” Bishop turned in a slow circle, studying a building he probably knew by heart. Considering it the way any seasoned warrior would—as both ally and opponent. They were fighting hand-to-hand, no weapons, but every support beam and wall was a potential weapon. A way to break a bone or cause internal injuries. “I don’t want you to watch, but I know I can’t keep you away.”