[Southern Arcana 2.0] Crossroads (31 page)
The gnawing fear in Nick’s belly flared and faded into numbness. She sought out the other Conclave members and found them watching the fight the same way, with a mixture of disbelief and discomfort.
They wanted Coleman to win. He’d ignored their official decision, gone rogue and killed Aaron, and it didn’t matter. Having him back in power would be preferable to having Derek.
Her father’s hands tightened again, hard this time, as if he was afraid she couldn’t keep her feet on her own. “Say the word and I’ll end it. Even if it tears everything apart.”
“
No
.” Derek was still fighting. He sank his teeth into Coleman’s leg again, only a glancing, shallow bite, but he was still
fighting
. He hadn’t given up on her, and she wouldn’t give up on him. “Derek can do this. He’s winning. That’s why Hoffman and the others are so worried.” He could do this. He could win, and turn their world upside down.
Still trembling, Nick watched.
The last time Derek had felt pain this intense, he’d gone down human and woken up a shapeshifter.
He wrenched his body out of the way of Coleman’s next attack, taking some comfort in the fact that it was slower than the previous lunges. But Coleman wasn’t the only one slowing down, and every second that passed brought another layer of agony.
Instinct that had been sure and confident at the beginning of the fight had begun to waver. Coleman was older, but he had cunning on his side. He’d hit Derek’s left shoulder so many times the pain was starting to drift toward a terrifying numbness that made it hard to maneuver.
He had to end the fight. He had to kill Coleman.
He had to figure out
how
.
He darted back, and his bad leg chose that moment to give out. They hit the ground, Coleman on top of him, and it was only a minor blessing that the powerful jaws closed on his shoulder instead of his throat.
Coleman shook him so hard that pain exploded through him, and Derek put everything he had into twisting away.
It was Nick’s tiny, terrified gasp that gave him the strength to fight the pain. Coleman had killed Aaron in cold blood in front of her. He wasn’t going to get a second chance to hurt her like that.
Derek rolled, hard and fast, and slammed Coleman’s injured side into the ground. The older wolf’s jaws opened on a yelp of pain, and Derek wiggled free. He couldn’t feel his shoulder anymore, and he didn’t need instinct to tell him that was bad. Time was running out.
So he gathered everything he had, bared his teeth, and lunged.
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He hit while Coleman was still struggling to his feet, and the wolf went down with a snarl. Claws sliced into his injured shoulder, and Derek ignored it. Ignored the pain and the fear of losing his arm for good and the shocked murmurs around them as Coleman began to panic, to struggle with frantic desperation.
Derek had worried there might be hesitation when he closed his teeth on his enemy’s throat, but the wolf rose in giddy triumph as he snapped his jaws shut, tasted blood. Coleman’s body jerked underneath him, his efforts slowing.
His second bite crushed his opponent’s throat. His third tore it open. Blood gushed, and Coleman writhed for a few final seconds and fell still.
Silence reigned around the circle, broken only by Nick’s hoarse, ragged sobs. Derek took three trembling steps back and dropped to his haunches, trying to spare his shoulder. He had no doubt that the numbness suffusing his body was only a temporary reprieve. Shock and adrenaline would soon fade, and he sure the hell wanted to be in human form before it did.
Finding the energy to shift was the hardest thing he’d ever done. The wolf fought him, high on the thrill of victory, and his injuries made the magic sluggish. Changing was usually easy, a burst of magic that burned through his body too fast to register pain. This time it crawled, dripping over him like molasses and leaving pain in its wake. It took too long to feel grass under his knees and, by the time the power faded, he was panting for breath, his left arm limp and useless at his side.
The wolf howled its outrage at being vulnerable in the face of so many potential enemies. Derek ignored it and focused on the only one who mattered, forcing out her name in a ragged, broken whisper.
“Nick.”
She wrenched free of her father’s grasp and ran to him, skidding to her knees in the grass beside him.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m okay.” A lie, and they both knew it.
Her hands slipped over his blood-slicked skin. “Can you stand? You have to.” He had to face the Conclave, accept his victory.
And tell them where to shove their council seat.
He felt like he’d lost a game of chicken with an eighteen-wheeler, and he’d happily sleep for a week, but he pulled himself to his feet and managed to stand, though his grip on Nick’s shoulder had to be hurting her.
It was Hoffman who faced him first, his face set and almost angry. “The Conclave heard your challenge, and Noah Coleman accepted it. You prevailed. Under our laws and traditions, that which was his is now yours.”
There were traditional phrases, things Nick had taught him over the past three days. Everything seemed blurry through the haze of pain and he had to struggle to get
any
words out. “His fortune and his property should remain with his family.”
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Ochoa nodded, obviously at least mildly appeased by the concession. “That leaves his council seat.
We were going to strip him of it, but your challenge took precedence. Since he still had it…” Derek didn’t want it. Every day would be a battle, a fight for change that no one around him wanted, and it would tie him to a world Nick only wanted to escape.
Validation wasn’t worth it. So he straightened and met Ochoa’s gaze squarely. “I respectfully decline.”
Derek may as well have grown a second head. The man’s eyes narrowed, and he shook his head.
“You have to want it. Why the hell else would you have risked this fight?” If they didn’t understand things like love and loyalty, nothing he said could make them understand.
“Because my Xbox broke and there wasn’t anything good on TV. Are we done?” Ochoa opened his mouth, but Nick interrupted him with a growl. “Where’s the doctor, Jorge?”
“He’s waiting inside,” he told her, his gaze still on Derek. “If a winner can’t walk out of the circle, he’s not much of a winner.”
“I won everything that matters.” Derek squeezed Nick’s shoulder once and released her, letting his hand fall to his side as he turned. Every step sent agony shooting through his body, but he ignored it as he walked to John’s side.
Nick’s father nodded once, in acknowledgement or maybe gratitude. “I’ll take care of the rest,” he murmured. “We’ll talk later.”
Nick waited until they were out of sight of the gathered crowd, just inside the mansion’s back door, and grabbed him. “It’s okay. They can’t see you anymore.”
Sometimes he forgot how strong she was. Pride had gotten him inside, but it was Nick’s stubbornness that got him across the room and down the hallway when his vision had already begun to swim in time with the pounding of his heart. “My arm’s bad, Nick. Really fucking bad.” It took her a moment to answer. “It’ll heal, and that’s what matters.” He wasn’t feeling nearly so confident. Then again, he wasn’t feeling much of anything at all, which probably had a lot to do with the trail of blood he’d left behind them. “Promise you’ll still love me if I end up with one arm.”
“Baby, I don’t care if you only have one of everything.” Her voice had taken on a strained quality, and he realized he was leaning heavily on her. “But if you don’t stop talking like this is it, I’m going to smack you.”
“That’s my Nicky. Violent to the end.” He reached up with his good arm and braced it against the wall. “I think I’m gonna pass out now, if that’s okay.”
She probably responded, but he didn’t hear it. He was too busy putting action to words.
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Chapter Twenty-Two
His shoulder ached, he had wood glue all over his hands, and he’d never been happier.
Derek stepped back and caught the ratty old towel Luciano tossed at him with a wince he didn’t bother to hide. It was freeing to feel safe showing weakness after the miserable weeks in New York, though the irony of being comfortable in Luciano’s presence didn’t escape him. But there was something soothing about the heated workroom behind the sprawling ranch house. He could hear the wind battering the side of the building, heralding the kind of harsh weather he’d never had to live with in Louisiana.
Something he’d just have to get used to, since Nick wasn’t going anywhere.
He turned his attention to Luciano as the man examined the cradle they’d spent the afternoon assembling. “All it needs is a little more sanding and some stain. How’s it look?”
“Michelle will love it.” Luciano ran his hand over a side panel and rocked it a little.
Derek wiped his hands clean as well as he could and studied the day’s work with a critical eye. It had been a long time since he’d had the luxury of indulging in his favorite hobby, but he hadn’t done too badly, all things considered. Either way, it would be worth a few extra twinges in his injured arm if he managed to coax a rare smile from Michelle.
He dropped the towel to the side and grabbed a worn piece of sandpaper. “How’s Michelle doing?
Nick’s wearing herself down between worrying about her sister and fussing over me.”
“She’s been quiet.” Luciano began to smooth a sheet of sandpaper over the other side of the cradle.
“Keeping to herself, mostly. A little sad. But she seems to be feeling better.” For a moment Derek was tempted to ask Luciano how
he
was doing, but their unspoken truce hadn’t had time to grow into friendship. Though maybe it was time to change that. “Thanks for the rooms, by the way. It means a lot to Nick to be able to stay here for a while.”
“This is Michelle’s home now,” Luciano answered quietly. “You two are welcome any time you want to be here.”
“I don’t think you’re getting rid of Nick. Not until the baby’s born.” Derek gave in and rubbed at the throbbing ache in his shoulder. “I have to go back to New Orleans to deal with business from time to time.
Aside from that, I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Luciano grinned. “Ranch life suits you?”
It did, and more than he’d anticipated. “Someone almost ripped my arm off my body a month ago in polite, civilized society. I could do with a little more time in the untamed wilds.”
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“You busted their polite society wide open. Was it worth it?” He thought of Nick, and of how Luciano loved Michelle in his own way. “What do you think?” Luciano was silent for several moments. “I think you and I understand each other.”
“I think you’re right.” They’d both do whatever they had to in order to keep the Peyton sisters safe.
Luciano’s hell was the fact that he’d never be more than a friend and protector to the woman he loved.
Luciano seemed content, but Derek couldn’t imagine a world where he could watch Nick, day in and day out, knowing she’d never need him the same way he needed her.
But you’d do it,
he told himself,
if it
was the only way to keep her safe.
He didn’t envy Luciano at all.
“What would you do?” Luciano finally asked. “If you knew she’d never love you, but she still needed your help? If her child needed your help?”
His first instinct was to protest, to insist that Michelle might grow to love Luciano in time. But he’d seen the bond she shared with Aaron. He’d seen the
love
, the kind you didn’t come back from losing in weeks or months. It would be years before the scars on Michelle’s heart healed, and even then there was no way of knowing if she’d ever return her husband’s feelings.
So he answered the question as honestly as he could. “I’d take care of her, however she needed. I don’t think I
could
do anything else, even if I wanted to.”
“Yes, and that’s what I’m doing. I only wish Michelle didn’t feel so guilty about our situation.” Derek felt the corner of his mouth tug up. “I’m starting to think telling a Peyton girl not to feel guilty is like asking the sun not to rise. All we can do is try to remind them we’re big boys who can make our own choices.”
Luciano laughed. “How are you faring with that?”
The words slipped out before he could stop them. “I’ll let you know after I ask her to marry me.” The man’s laughter faded into a whistle. “The long haul, huh?”
“Pretty much. Guess that’d make you my brother-in-law.”
“I guess so. Congratulations, Derek.”
He should have felt more nervousness or trepidation or
something
, but he’d already faced the hardest battles. He’d killed for Nick. He’d claimed her as his mate in front of the strongest wolves in the country.
As far as the animal inside him was concerned, the rest was silly formality.
Of course, there was still a part of him that wasn’t all animal and instinct, and that part was scared to death. “Congratulate me if she says yes.”
“I’ve seen you two together. She’ll say yes.”
Derek trusted that he was right and changed the subject. “I may need to borrow your truck and head into town tomorrow to pick up a few things. Everyone back in New Orleans made the deductive leap that since Nick’s birthday is next week, so is Michelle’s. I think some of them went a little overboard. You’ve 176
Crossroads
got about three boxes of books on their way, thanks to Michelle and Kat bonding over a shared love of reading. Thought I’d build a couple of nice bookcases, since it was my cousin’s doing.”
“Take any of the trucks. Gus can show you where the keys are.” Luciano braced his elbows on the table and groaned. “I’m afraid to get Michelle a present. Like I’d be pressuring her somehow.” Sympathy rose in Derek. “So help me with the bookshelves. They can be from both of us.”
“It wouldn’t be fair. You’ll be doing most of the work.”