Wild Card

by Rachel Vincent

  Vic nodded. “A time-honored tradition. Take several gulps, and we’ll wait a few minutes for it to kick in. Not too long, though, because we tend to process alcohol pretty fast.”

  “She has no tolerance,” I told him. “So we need to be careful.”

  “Do I want to know how you know that?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Just…throw it back?” Kaci asked, drawing Vic’s attention before he could decide to press the issue.

  “Wait. You’ll want a chaser.” I turned to look for the sodas I’d bought at the pharmacy, and Vic slapped an unopened can into my grip. “Thanks.” I popped the top and set the can in front of her.

  “Slow, right?” She lifted the bottle toward her mouth.

  “No, this time the point is to get a little drunk. You want the alcohol to hit all at once, make you happy for a few minutes, then just sort of fade away.”

  “So, take a couple of big drinks in a row.” Vic pulled the carafe from the coffee maker and started awkwardly filling paper cups, one-handed. “Then just sit back and wait.”

  Kaci nodded. Then she gulped from the whiskey bottle, and made a terrible, adorable face. Then she gulped some more. “That is awful,” she gasped as she set the bottle down.

  Vic laughed. “Good.”

  I handed her the soda, and she drank half of it at once.

  Vic set a cup of coffee in front of Chris, then one in front of me. Both black. Then he sank onto the edge of the bed and aimed an unreadable stare at me over the top of his own cup. “While we’re waiting, why don’t you tell us what the hell possessed you to steal Chris’s car and take off for Vegas.”

  “Technically, I stole your car,” Kaci told him Chris. “And considering my recent history, I think you should be kind of grateful that it’s still in one piece.”

  I screwed the lid back on the whiskey bottle. “I feel like I should make sure you guys aren’t going to hold anything she says while she’s drunk against her.”

  “She’s not drunk yet,” Chris pointed out.

  “I know. I’m just covering all the bases.”

  “Or trying to deflect whatever she’s about to say about you?” he challenged.

  “Nope. This whole thing is my fault. Not hers. But she’ll probably say something different in a few minutes.”

  “I can hear you,” Kaci said.

  “I overheard Vic talking about the enforcer grapevine. I knew I wasn’t going to get a fair trial, so I was going to try to make enough cash in Las Vegas to get out of the country.” Vic rolled his eyes, and I bristled. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds. I know what I’m doing. I was up to two hundred thousand before I lost it.”

  “Wow.” Chris whistled. “I’m not sure if that makes you a really good poker player or a really bad one.”

  “Sometimes there’s not a lot of difference between the two,” I admitted. “How you feeling, Kaci?”

  “Fine. Normal.” She shrugged, and the motion looked just a bit unsteady. “You should go,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I mean, we should have an hour or so alone together. But then you should go. They won’t chase you. Faythe said so. So you and I should… And then you should just get on a plane.”

  “What’s she talking about?” Vic asked.

  I shrugged. “I think she’s drunk.”

  “But why does she want you to get on a plane?”

  “I can still hear you. And I’m not drunk. I mean maybe a little, but seriously, I think this stuff is just some kind of truth serum.” She picked up the whiskey bottle and contemplated it seriously for a moment. Then she set it down again without drinking. “Justus needs to get on a plane and get out of the country, so they can’t execute him. “If you assholes will get out of here for a few minutes and let us consummate this sham of a marriage, he can go, and you can drag me home, and everyone will be happy. I mean, except me. And the council. But everyone will still be alive and intact.”

  “This isn’t a sham, Kaci.” I took her good hand.

  “I know. But it needs to be. You’ll be alive and gone, and you’ll find someone else. And Faythe’s right. Eventually one of those asshole enforcers will learn to live with the idea of marrying a freak, and I’ll—”

  “No,” I growled, squeezing her hand. “I’ll kill anyone who even tries—”

  “Maybe we should do the stitches now,” Chris suggested as he carefully guided Kaci’s arm back onto the towel. “While she’s clearly feeling…despondent.”

  Vic sipped his coffee. “Was she like this the last time she drank?”

  “No. Last time she was happy, then she vomited, then suddenly she was asleep.”

  “You know what would be great?” Kaci asked, and I turned to find her staring at the wicked-looking suture needle. “If I could forget this, after it’s over. Like a memory exchange. I wish I could remember marrying you, and forget about this entirely.”

  “You can’t remember your wedding?” Chris picked up the needle, and I watched, half fascinated, half horrified, as he began stitching her arm back together.

  Kaci hissed in pain and turned to me. “Whiskey is not a painkiller.”

  “No,” Vic admitted. “But it calms you down and helps you care less.”

  I took her free hand again. “Just look at me. Think about us. Tell me something. Just keep talking and it’ll be over in a minute.” I glanced at her arm again. “Chris looks like he’s pretty good at this.”

  “He’s not as good as Vic. Vic’s been the top enforcer since Faythe and Marc took over the territory, when I was a kid.” She flinched again. “But someone put our best suturer out of commission.”

  Chris frowned, but seemed too focused on his task to take serious offense.

  “So, what happened?” Vic asked. “Why did Jared take you?”

  “He said I was being apprehended on charges of trespassing.”

  “Which you’re guilty of,” Chris mumbled as he tugged the needle through Kaci’s flesh again, and she flinched. “But why? What good does it do Blackwell to actually charge you? I can’t think of a tabby ever being charged with trespassing.”

  “I believe Faythe was charged with trespassing once,” Vic supplied.

  “Okay, but that was different. That was trespassing with a side of murder. But it’s not like Blackwell thinks Kaci was staging a coup against him or anything. And why would they take her, but not Justus?”

  “Because they didn’t have to take him.” Vic frowned over his coffee cup. “Jared saw them together. He knew Justus would follow Kaci.”

  “He used me as bait.” Kaci scowled. “That bastard! How insulting.”

  “But what do they want with me?” I asked. “To hold me in custody to make sure I show up for my trial? Faythe said they wouldn’t chase me if I left the country, because they don’t care whether I’m dead or gone. That they just want me out of the way.”

  “So then why lure him into the territory, if they would be just as happy to see him flee the country?” Kaci asked.

  Vic shrugged, “There has to be more to this. Something we’re not seeing.”

  “I feel like that all the time,” I told him.

  “Okay, I think we’re done here.” Chris tugged gently on the tiny knot he’d tied in the thread coming out of Kaci’s arm. “Let me just…” He took a little pair of scissors and clipped the thread as close to the knot as possible. Then he tossed me a tube of antibiotic cream. “Wash your hands and apply that, then re-bandage her. We’ll pack up the car.”

  “Where are you supposed to drop the rental?” Vic asked as he stood with his coffee.

  “Denver,” I told him. “That’s where I was going to catch my flight.”

  “Well, I’m afraid you’re on the hook for whatever penalty comes from dropping it off somewhere else.” Vic caught my eye in the bathroom mirror while I washed my hands. “Good thing you’re rich.”

  “Not yet, he’s not.” Kaci giggled as I dried my hands, then sat next to her at the table.
“Though he would have been, if you’d been a few minutes later.”

  Vic’s brow rose. “I assume that made sense to you?”

  “I don’t actually have access to my money yet. Hold still,” I admonished as I spread cream on Kaci’s fresh stitches with a clean cotton swab.

  “But he will be if we have sex.” She giggled again. “And seriously, we were so close.”

  Chris looked surprised. “You haven’t…?” Evidently Marc hadn’t quite filled them in.

  “Not the point,” Vic growled. “I’m actually not sure what the point is. Why would sleeping with your own wife make you rich?”

  “Because then we’ll really be married.” Kaci took another drink from her soda can. “Consummated. Then he can inherit.”

  “You’re a trust fund brat,” Chris said, and I nodded.

  Vic tossed Kaci’s bag to Chris, then threw my duffle over his shoulder with his good hand. “Someone fill me in.”

  “There was this guy in my high school who had a trust fund,” Chris said. “He had something like three million dollars coming to him. But not until he turned twenty—or got married. I swear, that stupid fucker proposed to half the girls in the school, trying to get his hands on his money early…”

  They both turned to me, as the realization sank in. Vic growled. His eyes began to…churn with color. Which is when I realized they were shifting. As were his teeth. “You married her to get your money?”

  “No!” I stood and backed away as they came at me. I would defend myself if I had to, but I’d rather they understand the truth. “Well, yes, but it wasn’t like that. I didn’t just do it for me. I did it for us. We were both going to go. Together.”

  “Forever on an island,” Kaci muttered, staring at the table, her gaze unfocused. She looked sleepy. Which meant her buzz was wearing off.

  “You worthless bastard.” Vic advanced on me, his broken arm still strapped to his chest, evidently ready to beat me to a pulp with the other one. “She’s barely eighteen years old, and she’s had it rougher than you can imagine. For some rich, pretty-boy predator like you to—”

  “Stop.” Kaci stood, wobbling on her feet. “It’s not like it sounds. This isn’t his fault.”

  “It’s okay.” I reached for her, but Chris stepped between us and steadied her by the shoulders.

  “Don’t touch her,” he snapped.

  “Take her to the car,” Vic ordered. “Justus and I are going to have a chat.

  “Leave him alone.” Tears stood in Kaci’s eyes. She shoved Chris with her injured arm, then hissed at the pain. Blood leaked through her bandage.

  “Let her go,” I growled, struggling against a protective instinct that felt extreme, yet somehow also entirely warranted. “If you try to take her out of this room without me, I will break every bone in your body.”

  “Okay, everybody calm down.” Vic held one hand up, palm out, moving slowly and carefully. His gaze narrowed on me, and I realized he recognized the same hormonal mayhem in me that Marc had heard in my voice over the phone. “We’re going to get in the car and head straight back to Texas. Justus will sit up front with Chris, and I’ll sit in the back with Kaci.”

  “No…” she mumbled.

  “Put her in the car.” Vic’s voice was low and calm.

  Chris led Kaci toward the hotel door, and she turned to me, eyes full of tears. She looked confused and afraid, and seeing her like that—

  I burst into motion. My arm slid around her waist and I spun her carefully away from Chris as I kicked him in the chest. He went flying. Kaci clung to me with her good arm.

  Vic stared at us both in astonishment.

  “I said no,” she growled at him. “I’m staying with Justus.”

  “I believe the lady has spoken,” I said through clenched teeth, struggling to control my racing pulse, as well as the urge to pull his arms off and beat him with them. She wanted me. She was mine. And I would shred anyone who came between us. If they couldn’t see that, they could damn well learn the hard way.

  “Fine.” Vic glared at me. “But whatever you’ve done to her—however you convinced her that this was real—you should be ashamed. Marc will skin you alive when he finds out.”

  “Just shut up,” Kaci snapped at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her grip on me tightened, and she turned a defiant, if slightly unsteady gaze on Vic. “I love him. That’s why I married him. Because while the rest of you fuckers were whispering about me behind my back, he actually had my back. He made me feel beautiful, and wanted, and normal. So I—”

  Kaci gasped and clasped one hand over her mouth. “It was my idea. I suggested we get married. I proposed to you! In front of that fountain at the hotel!”

  My pulse began to slow and I smiled as I squeezed her tighter. “You remembered.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me?” She looked horrified. “I was so mean to you the next morning, and the whole thing was my idea!”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d believe me, if you couldn’t remember it.”

  “Okay. That’s beautiful, and all, but we have to get on the road.” Vic’s phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket to read the incoming text. “Oh, damn.”

  “What?” Chris leaned over his shoulder to look at the phone. He frowned. “Paul Blackwell just died.”

  “We need to get home.” Vic headed for the door. “Right now.”

  Seventeen

  Kaci

  “So, what’s going to happen?” I asked, watching as Faythe bounced baby Ethan with every step she took. “What does this mean for Justus’s hearing?”

  “We’re not sure yet.” Faythe paced back toward me, still bouncing. “We know that Blackwell’s son-in-law, Robert Taylor will officially take over the Pride after the funeral. Which is scheduled for tomorrow.”

  “Wait, Robert Taylor?” Justus said. “Any relation to Ed Taylor?”

  “His brother.” I stood and held my arms out. “And Jared’s dad. Faythe, why don’t you let me take him?”

  “Thanks.” She laid baby Ethan gently in my arms, then snatched a pacifier from the edge of her desk. “Don’t forget to support his head.” Then she frowned. “How’s your arm?”

  “Fine. It was just a gash, and I shifted twice this morning. Your mom’s going to remove the stitches this afternoon.”

  “Okay.” With a sigh, she sank into her rolling chair and propped her elbows on the table, then she turned to Justus. “So, Paul Blackwell’s name was drawn at random for your tribunal. His son-in-law’s name was not. Robert Taylor is insisting that he’ll inherit a position on the tribunal when he takes over the pride.”

  “Is that a problem?” Justus asked. “Do we not want that?”

  Faythe shrugged. “Blackwell ruled the Southwest Territory with a notoriously closed fist. He never let anyone speak for him. Because of that, other than vague rumors that Robert is a little less conservative, I know nothing about where he stands on the unresolved issues on the council’s plate. Which currently include your hearing and your brother’s formal petition to have the Mississippi Valley Pride officially acknowledged. And frankly, having a brand new Alpha on the council has thrown a potential wrench into both of those proceedings.”

  “Because you don’t know how he’ll vote?” Justus guessed.

  “And because we have a potential new alliance in play.”

  “The Taylor brothers,” I whispered, as I rocked the groggy baby in my arms. He was surprisingly heavy.

  “Yes. Since the war, we’ve largely fallen into two camps, divided along the stray-split: where each of us stand on acknowledging strays as citizens and accepting Titus onto the council. Ed Taylor has never taken a firm position either way. He and Jerald Pierce were always potential swing votes. But now that his brother is also on the council, there’s a better-than-excellent chance that they’ll vote together, to establish a new power dynamic. And no one knows how that vote will go.”

  “So, there are currently two Wades o
n the council—Rick and Isaac—and they’re allied with you and Marc, and Vic’s dad, Bert Di Carlo. That’s four votes in the pro-stray camp.” I was narrating aloud both for Justus’s benefit, and because the singsong pitch of my voice seemed to be lulling the baby toward sleep. “Nick Davidson, Wes Gardner, and Milo Mitchel usually vote together, and Blackwell would have been in their camp before—four anti-stray Alphas. Leaving Jerold Pierce and Ed Taylor as unallied and undecided. Except that now the two Taylors could be going either way.”

  “Or their own way,” Faythe confirmed.

  “How would that work?” Justus asked. “An alliance of two doesn’t seem to have much swing in a pool of ten votes.”

  Faythe nodded. “Which means they’re probably planning to stand with one side or the other.”

  “And until we know whether they’ll swing toward the pro- or the anti-stray camp,” Marc said from the doorway. “We won’t know whether or not it’s safe to let Robert Taylor replace Blackwell on your tribunal.”

  “Well, Ed was planning to vote with Blackwell, against Justus,” I said. “Doesn’t it stand to reason that Robert will too, if they’re allied? If so, that doesn’t change anything.” And we really needed to change something.

  Faythe frowned. “Are you sure that’s how he was planning to vote?”

  “That’s definitely the impression I got,” I whispered, because the baby had fallen asleep.

  “Here. Let me put him to bed.” Marc reached for his son, and I handed the baby off to him carefully. He tilted his head to the side, clearly listening to something, then glanced toward the front of the house. “They’re here. I’ll let them in.”

  “Thanks.” Faythe turned back to us as her husband left with the baby. “Okay, then we need to fight Robert Taylor’s appointment to the tribunal. And the question now becomes whether or not we ask for a total redraw. If we do, we could lose Di Carlo’s friendly vote.”

  “But we could gain another friendly one, couldn’t we?” Justus asked.

  I shrugged. “It could go either way.”

  Footsteps clomped up the porch steps, and from the hall came the whisper of the front door being opened. “Come on in,” Marc said softly from the hallway. “They’re in the office. And both boys are asleep, so shhh…”