Pride (23 page)

That slimy son of a bitch!

Marc’s hands fell into fists at his sides, and my uncle rushed to fill the silence. “Calvin, keep the editorializing to a minimum.”

Malone ignored him, but wisely moved on. “I’m recom
mending a sentence consisting of a public apology, dismissal and
exile
.”

Marc jerked as if he’d been slapped, and someone gasped out loud. I think it was me.

Blood dribbled down my chin when my mouth gaped open, and I wiped it away with that same sleeve, as the nails of my other hand sank into Lucas’s skin. He hissed and tried to pull his hand from mine, but I barely noticed.

No
. Marc had said he’d accept his sentence, but he couldn’t have known Malone would pull a stunt like that.

“That’s
completely
unreasonable.” My father growled, now on the edge of his chair. His jaw bulged with obvious anger, which could only mean he was closer to losing his temper in public than I’d ever seen him. “No one was hurt, and Faythe actually helped both us and the tabby.”

Every gaze in the room moved from my father to Calvin Malone, waiting to see how he’d respond. We were exploring new territory in the landscape of werecat political structure, at least as far as I knew, and no one seemed very sure of his footing at the moment.

Malone’s eyes blazed with anticipation “He sent your daughter—in direct opposition to our orders—to be slaughtered by a half-wild werecat who’d already sliced open Dr. Carver’s arm. If a full-grown tom couldn’t handle her, Marc had no reason to believe Faythe could.”

My father’s voice went dangerously soft and deep. “He’s a much better judge of her capabilities than
you
are, and he was right. She’s fine.”

“The happy ending doesn’t matter—it could easily have gone another way. What matters is that he made a very poor decision that could have gotten your daughter killed.” Malone and my father faced off against each other, the rest of us forgotten in a rarely seen Alpha battle of wills. “He has to pay for that, Greg, and letting him remain in your house and in
your Pride is as good as saying you value
his
life over hers. You can’t trust him to protect her now. You might as well hand him a knife and tell him to get it over with!”

Blood rushed to my face, scalding my cheeks, and I had to force air from my lungs in order to draw a fresh breath. He couldn’t be serious. He was
not
accusing Marc of wanting me dead! If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black, I’d…I’d…pound the shit out of the pot myself!

For several seconds I saw nothing but a thick film of angry red, as shocked silence settled around the room like a fog too thick to breathe through. When my vision cleared, my gaze settled on the first thing in the room to move.

To my utter horror, Blackwell was nodding, staring at Marc in disgust now. He was buying Malone’s steaming pile of horseshit!

Uncle Rick looked as sick as I felt. But my father just looked pissed.

He stood slowly to face Malone, and his chair squealed on the floor. “You will
not
tell me how to run my Pride, nor will you dictate whom I include among its numbers. You’ve stepped over your boundaries, Calvin, and if you don’t step back quickly, I
will
meet you toe-to-toe.”

Yes!

Malone stood, and I couldn’t stifle a petty surge of glee when his forehead only reached my father’s nose. “My vote carries as much weight here as yours does, Greg, and my allies appear to equal yours.”

Blackwell nodded, formally throwing his frail weight behind Malone’s bullshit sentence. “Greg, Marc doesn’t seem to have the best interest of your Pride at heart.”

“That is for
me
to decide,” my father thundered.

But two votes in favor of Malone’s suggestion were enough to keep the jury hung until someone switched sides, or the world ended. Or they appealed to the rest of the council for a
tiebreaker. However, that in itself was a risky move, because there were several other Alphas who shared Malone’s prejudicial dislike of Marc. If the tiebreaker cast his vote with Malone, I would lose Marc for good. He’d be publicly humiliated, fired, and exiled as a traitor.

I could
not
let that happen.

“No!” I was out of my chair in an instant, and too far away for Lucas to grab without standing along with me, which he wasn’t willing to do. He knew better than to draw attention to himself in a room filled with so much tension. He was a lot smarter than I was, because I planned to soak up
all
the attention, to keep it off Marc.

Unfortunately, that’s as far as my plan went.

“Faythe…” My father turned furious eyes on me, but beneath the anger I saw true terror. He knew he was losing Marc, and he was afraid that if I didn’t keep my mouth shut he’d lose me too. But that wasn’t motivation enough for me to cooperate, considering he might lose me anyway.

“No.” The end of my ponytail slapped my cheeks as I shook my head vehemently. “I won’t let them do this. Marc didn’t do anything wrong. He tried to stop me, but I wouldn’t listen. If he’d held me back, I would have fought him. He would have had to hurt me to stop me, and he wasn’t willing to do that. The only thing he’s guilty of is trusting me enough to believe I knew what I was doing.”

“That was not his call to make!” Malone yelled.

“It most certainly
was!
” I shouted, glowering in fierce loathing of every corrupt ideal he represented. “Marc was the highest-ranking tom there, which
made
it his call. And he made a
good
one, which you’d know if you’d listen to what Kaci told me.”

“Faythe,
sit down!
” Marc hissed, turning to stare at me in horror. For once I knew exactly how deep a hole I was digging for myself, but my more immediate concern was that Malone
not get away with such a selfish, blatant travesty of justice. Marc could not be exiled. I would
not
stay at the ranch without him.

“No!” My hands curled into fists at my sides, and I glared at him, almost as angry over his submissive silence as I was over Malone’s despicably out-of-proportion sentence. “There’s no way I’m letting them kick you out for something
I
did. I can’t
believe
you’re not fighting this!”

But I could, really. Marc’s sense of honor was flawless. He’d said he would accept his sentence, and he was now honor-bound to do so, even if it was completely, outrageously unfair.

Malone crossed both arms over his chest. “The standard sentence for insubordination is dismissal. And for endangering a tabby’s life? I’d say exile is getting off easy. A less tolerant Alpha might ask for something more…
permanent
.” Beneath his disapproving scowl a grin was just dying to break free.

And to be pounded into a mutilated mass of split lips and shattered teeth. My fists ached for that honor.

On his end of the room, Blackwell was nodding, convinced that Malone was doing Marc a
favor
. And Marc just stood there, jaws bulging, hands clenched, lips sealed.

The last thread of hope unraveled around my heart, leaving frayed bits of despair in its place. I dismissed the rest of the Alphas and focused on my father; he was the only one who could stop this now. “Daddy, you can’t let them do this.” Rushing past Marc, I leaned over the table and placed my ice-cold palms flat on the smooth surface, staring down the length of the room at the patriarch of my bloodline. “Do
not
do this!”

My father frowned at me, seemingly at a loss for what to say in the face of such chaos, and that very concept sent me into a tailspin of panic. I didn’t know how to function in a world where my father was speechless and Marc was absent. They’d always been the great constants in my life, and without their ironclad support in place, nothing made sense. Nothing I did or said mattered, because life would never be the same again.

My vision began to blur again, and when I blinked, tears slid down my face, oddly cool against the vicious heat in my cheeks. I wiped moisture with my fingers and could only stare at it in astonishment, as if those tears somehow held the explanation for what the hell was happening. How had I gone from trying to help a fellow tabby to watching my entire life’s foundation stomped beneath the steel-toed boots of injustice?

“This doesn’t make any sense, Marc. He wants to have me executed. He wants
you
to do it. And now he wants to throw you out for letting me put my own life in danger? That’s bullshit! He can’t have his fucking cake and eat it, too. I won’t let him!”

I was no longer crying over only his sentence. I was crying over Andrew’s death, and my part in it. Over my inability to help myself, because no matter what I said and did, I only managed to make things worse.

“Get her out of here,” my Alpha—my
father
—ordered quietly.

“Hell no! I’m not going anywhere.” I wiped more tears, then crossed my arms over my chest and spread my feet, prepared to make my stand—until my dad nodded at someone behind me.

I turned left to see who he was looking at, but Lucas took up my entire line of sight. I spun around, only to find Marc on my other side. He wrapped his arms around me and gently forced my head onto his shoulder, where I lost my already fragile control over the bulk of my anger and frustration.

Something pinched the back of my arm through my shirt-sleeve, and I flinched. I twisted to see Dr. Carver holding a now-half-empty syringe, his eyes brimmed with fright and regret.

“Traitor…” I whispered, my legs collapsing beneath me even as Marc scooped me into his arms.

Then, in the middle of a bright November morning, everything went dark.

S
oft yellow light painted red streaks on the backs of my eyelids, and I moaned as I rolled onto my side.
Damn tranquilizers
… I opened one eye to take in a familiar pressboard dresser, on top of which lay the suitcase Marc had given me when I’d told him I wanted to go to college instead of rescheduling our wedding.

Shit
. I was back in my own room at the cabin.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” Jace said softly from my right.

“Call me that again, and I’ll tell the whole Pride you sleep in Scooby-Doo underwear.”

“I don’t sleep in Scooby-Doo underwear. Hell, I don’t sleep in
any
underwear.”

Waaay too much information, Jace.
And for once, no mental image popped into my head. I wasn’t in the mood for recreational speculation at the moment. Not by a long shot.

“It’ll be my word against yours.” Still scowling, I sat up and put one hand to my forehead, when the room spun around me. The tranquilizer hadn’t quite worn off yet. That, plus the daylight leaking through the cracks in the blinds told me I hadn’t been unconscious very long. Though my rumbling stomach argued otherwise.

“How long was I out?” I asked as Jace sat on the end of my bed.

He angled his wristwatch into the muted glow of my bedside lamp. “Just over three hours.”

It could have been worse; I hadn’t even missed lunch. “How bad is it?”

His pained expression said he knew exactly what I was asking. “Well, I doubt you helped your own case.”

“
Fuck
my case.” I threw the covers back, and my bad mood instantly worsened when I realized I wore no pants. “Nothing I do or say is going to make a damn bit of difference in that regard. They already have their minds made up.”

“They do
now
…”

“They have from the start, but that whole damn ambush made no sense at all.” I squinted into the shadows and spotted my jeans draped over the arm of a chair in the corner. “Where the hell do they get off charging Marc for endangering me, when they’re going to order me executed as soon as they can fill out the proper paperwork?”

“You sound like your uncle.”

I shot Jace a quizzical look over my shoulder, on my way to the chair. “What did he say?”

“I heard him tell your dad that Calvin’s been in his room on the phone all morning, and he was on for nearly two hours yesterday, with music playing the whole time. He’s up to something. Rick doesn’t know what, but he’s trying to find out.”

Sighing, I sank into the chair and shoved first one foot then the other into the jeans I’d been wearing for most of the last eighteen hours. They were my most comfortable pair, and sometimes a good pair of jeans goes even further than good chocolate toward making me feel better. The only thing more effective would be a strong drink, which was out of the question at the moment. I needed to keep my wits about me,
especially after convincing every Alpha within three hundred miles that I was certifiably
insane
.

Tranquilized for my own good. The guys would never let me live that one down.

“How’s Kaci?”

Jace swiveled on his rump to watch me slink across the room toward my suitcase in search of a clean shirt. I needed a shower, but didn’t want to waste time on such trivialities just then. “She’s been asking for you. She won’t talk to anyone else. Malone went in to see her, and she wouldn’t even look at him. You should have seen him when he came out. He was so mad he wouldn’t say what happened, but Lucas overheard it from the hall.”

I pulled off the T-shirt I’d slept in and tossed it onto the pile of dirty clothes in one corner. “Well?” I faced Jace when it became clear that he was waiting for my response. “What did he say?”

“She told him to get the hell out of her room before she started screaming.”

“Screaming?” I rummaged through the pile of clothes in my suitcase, looking for something that wasn’t too wrinkled. But my entire wardrobe looked as if it had been wadded into one big ball, probably by someone searching for clothes for Kaci.

“Yeah. And apparently he didn’t move fast enough to please her, because she
did
start screaming, and we could hear her loud and clear from the living room.”

Unimpressed, I shrugged as I pulled a black lace bra from the top pocket of the suitcase. “That’s not hard to believe.”

“The living room of
this
cabin, not the lodge.”

Oh.
Attagirl.

With my back to Jace, I unhooked my bra and tossed it onto the pile of clothes in the corner, then scooped myself into the clean one. “So she’s okay?”

“Yeah. That was about an hour ago, and they haven’t sent
anyone in since. They’re waiting for you to wake up and go talk to her.”

“Are they planning to ask nicely?” My words were muffled as I pulled a black ribbed T-shirt over my head. I’d chosen it to remind everyone that I was still an enforcer, even if I was suspended. At least for the moment.

Jace huffed behind me as I shoved the sleeves of my shirt halfway to my elbows. “I doubt they’ll ask at all,” he said, smiling gently. “After your last big speech, they know you’ll do it because it’s the ‘right’ thing to do.”

I should have
known
being nice would come back to bite me on the ass.

Rooting through the bag again, I tugged my hairbrush from a tangle of sleeves and ran it through my hair. My ponytail was gone, and the rubber band was nowhere to be found.

I kept my back to Jace as I asked the next question, both because I didn’t want him to see my face and because I didn’t really want to know the answer. “What about Marc? What did Daddy do?”

Jace sighed, and my shoulders sagged, my brush pausing in midstroke. I knew the truth before he even said it. “They didn’t give him any choice, Faythe. It was all over by the time Michael and I got back, so I didn’t hear what happened, but we both know your father would never have agreed to Marc’s sentence if he had any way out of it.”

No! How the hell could he do it?

“That’s bullshit, and you know it!” My fist slammed into the side of my soft-shell suitcase, which flew across the dresser and smashed into the dark wood-paneled wall. The knuckles of my right hand throbbed with my pulse; I’d skinned them on the rough carpet weave of the bag. “There are
always
choices.
Plenty
of choices. What there’s never enough of is courage—willingness to push past the easy option and see what else is available.”

Jace scowled, an edge of anger showing through the sympathy defining his expression. “You think it was
easy
for your dad to lose Marc?”

“No.” I closed my eyes and let myself sag against the dresser. “Of course not.” Hell, there were times I thought he liked Marc better than
me.
“I just can’t believe he did it. He’s always talking about how important it is to do what’s right. To keep those in power from running over those in need. But I guess that’s a tendency he learned from the rest of the council—too much talk and not enough action. Too much politics, and not enough
truth
. If he and Uncle Rick would stand up to the others one good time—really lay it out loud and clear—this whole thing would be over in an hour.”

“Maybe, but ‘over’ doesn’t necessarily mean a happy ending.” A sad smile tugged at the corner of Jace’s mouth as he watched me. “You think you have all the answers?”

“In life? No.” I plucked a folded pair of socks from the suitcase on the floor. “But in this case…yes. If my dad wants to keep this Pride intact, it’s time for him and his allies to shut their mouths and start talking with their fists.”

“What if everyone else has the same idea?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, pulling one sock free of its mate as I sank onto the nearest bed. “They lose, we win, and everyone goes home? Good triumphs over evil? That’s how it works in movies.”

Jace shook his head in sympathy and sat next to me. “This isn’t Hollywood. If you want to change the system, you’re going to have to do it from the inside. Even if Marc isn’t there to help.”

My eyes watered, and I wiped them on the clean sock, hoping Jace hadn’t noticed. But of course, he had.

“I’m so sorry, Faythe.”

“It’s not your fault.” Though I knew how he felt, as if he
were somehow responsible, just because his bastard of a stepfather was spearheading the attempt to knock my world off its axis. But this had nothing to do with Jace. It was all Malone, and his petty grudges and power intoxication.

Fine.
Maybe I couldn’t stop them from kicking Marc out, but
they
couldn’t stop me from going with him. We’d go together. After all, they couldn’t execute me if they couldn’t find me. Right?

Finally dressed, I stomped toward the door on my way to find Marc, but Jace appeared in my path from out of nowhere. I hadn’t even seen him get up. “Move,” I ordered.

He shook his head, arms crossed firmly over his chest. “I know what you’re thinking and I understand, but you can’t go.”

“I can’t do this with you right now, Jace. You know how I—”

A pained look crossed his face, chased away almost instantly by ironclad resolution. “This has nothing to do with
us
. I want to see you happy, even if it isn’t with me. But you can’t go with him.”

I tried to shove him out of my way, but Jace refused to budge. I shoved harder, and he took my upper arms in both hands. “Think about Kaci. You’re the only one she’ll talk to. She needs you. Don’t do this to her.”

As badly as I hated to leave her, Kaci would be fine. My mother would know how best to help her. So would Manx. I tried to jerk my arms from his grip, but he wouldn’t let go.

Jace saw the determination in my eyes, and he frowned. “Hell, don’t do this to
Marc
. What will his life be like if you go with him? He’d spend every day fighting for you, and even Marc can’t fight forever.”

Fear sank through me like an anchor to the seafloor, pinning me to the spot where I stood. But Jace wasn’t done.

“That’s assuming the council doesn’t go after him for kidnapping you. And you
know
Calvin would do it.”

He was right. Marc was as good as dead if I went with him. There were strays in the free zone who would kill him for a shot at me. If the council didn’t get him first.

And my father would waste incalculable time and resources looking for me.

Damn it!

I exhaled slowly, and when my shoulders slumped in defeat, Jace let go of my arms. “This isn’t over,” I whispered as he pulled me into a hug that bruised my heart as much as it comforted me. My eyes watered, and I blinked away tears. I would
not
cry about this again. I was done crying. It was time to get mad.

Anger was
so
much more productive than tears.

I pulled away from Jace gently so he wouldn’t take it personally, and met his eyes with a fresh layer of determination reinforcing my resolve. I would do what the council wanted; I would help them with Kaci. But I’d do it
my
way, and if they couldn’t handle that, they could go fuck themselves.

I had nothing left to lose. Except for my life, which had less and less value each time they cut something out of it. So while I was playing their game, I would also be playing
mine
. I would find a way to get Marc back into the Pride. A loophole or something.

If I couldn’t talk him out of submitting, his exile would only be temporary. I would see to that.

Bending, I snatched my hiking boots from the floor and pulled them on one at a time, so angry I tugged the laces tight enough to cut off the circulation in my foot, then had to loosen them. “When is Marc leaving?”

“His plane takes off first thing in the morning.”

“Where is he?”

“In his room,” Jace said, and I glanced at the wall separating me from Marc, now aware that he’d probably heard every word we’d said.

“What about everyone else?” The cabin was silent around us, but for the distant hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

“At the lodge. Your dad said to take you over when you woke up.” He followed me out of the bedroom and across the living room.

“Fine.” I pulled open the front door and kicked the screen with one foot. It crashed into the exterior wall of the cabin then bounced back, and I held it open for him. “Consider your duty done.”

He stepped outside and I pulled the screen shut behind him, locking it with a quick flip of one finger. “What are you doing?” Jace demanded, rattling the handle.

Instead of answering, I closed the heavy oak door in his face and twisted the knob lock, then slid the security chain into place.

“Faythe! It isn’t really bringing you
in
if you don’t come
with
me!”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Walk slowly. I’ll catch up.”

“No. Faythe! Open the damn door!” Jace’s fist slammed into the screen door and Plexiglas splintered. He could tear the screen right off its hinges if he wanted to, but the solid oak panel would take him much longer to get through. Satisfied for the moment, I was headed toward the kitchen to secure the back entrance when footsteps clomped across the front porch and his knuckles rapped the window, rattling it in its frame. “Don’t make me break the glass, Faythe. You know I’ll do it.”

I exhaled in frustration, then marched back to the front door and unlocked it.

“Half an hour, Jace.” I pulled the door open and stared at him through the screen, begging wordlessly for a few minutes alone with Marc. “Is that too much for a dying woman to ask?”

He scowled, unamused. “You are
not
dying.”

“Somehow I doubt your stepfather would agree.”

Hinges creaked behind me and I turned to see Marc
standing in his bedroom doorway wearing a faded Poison concert T-shirt and jeans with a hole in one knee. “What the hell are you doing, Faythe?”

“Bargaining for a little privacy. I need to talk to you, and I’m tired of everyone overhearing every word we say.”

Marc hesitated, watching my eyes for several seconds. Then his gaze shifted from me to Jace, and he nodded.