Blind Tiger

by Rachel Vincent

  Titus’s eyes narrowed. “It won’t come to that.” But he was obviously as angry at the thought of his territory being invaded as he was at the thought of them hauling me into captivity.

  “Okay, clearly we need a plan. Let’s eat while we talk.” Abby tugged me up the steps without waiting for a response from either of the toms. “It’s okay,” she whispered as we crossed the threshold into a three-story foyer crowned with a giant chandelier. “We’ll work this out.”

  When the guys followed us inside, Abby pushed a mass of red curls from her face and forced a smile. “I’m starving. Let’s make sandwiches.” Then she took off down a central hallway, assuming we’d all follow.

  We did.

  Abby pulled out a bar stool for me at a massive granite island, then started taking sandwich supplies from a forty-eight-inch refrigerator.

  Titus went straight for an upper cabinet, from which he pulled down a bottle of bourbon and four glasses. “You’re old enough, right?”

  “For anything you can imagine,” I said. With no thought about how that might sound.

  Titus’s brows rose again.

  Jace and Abby both glanced at me in surprise.

  “I’m twenty-two,” I clarified. “Old enough to drink, and to make my own decisions. At least in human society.”

  “Ham or turkey?” Abby asked at last, breaking the fragile silence.

  “Yes,” I said, and she laughed as she set a paper plate on the island in front of me.

  “Fancy.” I held up the disposable dish, to contrast it with the high-end appliances.

  “No one likes doing dishes,” Abby explained as she piled shaved ham onto a slice of bread on her plate.

  “Time to make that phone call.” Titus set his cell phone and a short, thick glass in front of me. Clearly, alcohol trumped the “no real dishes” policy.

  “No.” Jace slid the phone out of my reach. “Not until we work out what she’s going to say.”

  “She’s going to tell the council that I had nothing to do with breaking her out.” Titus set his phone in front of me again. “And she’s going to do it now, before they figure out on their own that we have her.”

  “Then what?” Jace demanded. “We can’t tell them she’s here until we’re ready to send her back, and I don’t think she’s going to go willingly.”

  “If we don’t tell them she’s here, we’re actively hiding her,” Titus insisted. “And every second we spend hiding her gives them a stronger reason to consider us enemies and reject our petition!”

  “Are they always like this?” I whispered to Abby, as I watched Jace and Titus argue.

  “Not always. They’re good friends. But two Alphas living under one roof is always a prickly situation.”

  I layered a slice of ham over a slice of turkey on my sandwich. “So why don’t you move out?”

  “We will.” Abby wiped the tip of the mustard container with a paper towel. “But it’s complicated out here. Most of the strays didn’t get any help or guidance after they were infected. They figured out on their own that exposing themselves to humanity would be a bad idea, mostly from TV and movies full of government labs and scientists. And those the council knows about got warnings about following all the rules. But until Titus took over, there was no real regulation out here. They’re used to living however they want.”

  “Like the Wild West,” I mumbled.

  “Yeah. Kind of. And these cowboys have never met a cowgirl of their own species. Most of them are just curious, but…” She shrugged, and her sandwich flopped in her hand.

  “But until the law gets a better hold, you’re circling the wagons.”

  Abby nodded. “I think we’ve pretty much exhausted that metaphor.”

  I laughed. “Agreed.”

  “Fine,” Jace growled from across the kitchen. “But if it starts to go south, let me talk to Faythe. She’ll listen to me.”

  “It’s not going to go south.” Titus turned to me, holding his cell, with Faythe Sanders’s contact page on the screen. “You’re up, Robyn.”

  FOUR

  Titus

  “We’re in trouble here. Do you want my advice or not?” Jace snapped softly, while Abby and Robyn assembled sandwiches across the kitchen.

  The Alpha in me wanted to growl “No.” But my human half, which had spent the past five years expanding my father’s multi-billion-dollar corporation, knew better. A CEO is only as strong and as smart as the advisers he listens to.

  The same, presumably, went for Alphas.

  “Yes,” I said at last. “I want your advice, but this is my territory. The decision is mine.”

  Jace’s jaw clenched briefly, and I saw him struggle to unlock it. I knew exactly how he felt. As valuable as he was as a friend and an ally, and as grateful as I was for his help and advice in forming my own Pride, we’d gotten along much better when we’d worked together from a distance—him in his territory and me in mine.

  “If the decision were mine,” Jace began. “I’d send her back.”

  “Now?”

  “As close to now as possible. I’d call Faythe and tell her what happened, then have her send someone to meet us at the border. With Abby. For a friendly handover.”

  “Because with the council chair’s daughter in the line of fire, they’re less likely to let things escalate.”

  Jace nodded. “Exactly.”

  “And if Robyn won’t go?”

  “That’s not up to her.”

  I sipped from my glass to hide my smile. “Better not let Abby hear you say a woman can’t make her own decisions.”

  Jace rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I’m saying. Robyn already made her decision. She made a deal with the council. She has to honor her word. That’s no different than a plea deal would be in the human justice system. For a man or a woman.”

  “But the US Department of Justice wouldn’t try to marry her off.” I watched as she took the first bite of her sandwich, leaning with the curve of one well-formed hip against my countertop.

  Jace’s gaze narrowed on me, and I jerked my focus from Robyn with more effort than the act should have taken. “Titus, don’t do this.”

  “Do what?” But I knew damn well what he meant.

  “Do not look at her like that.”

  I didn’t even bother trying to stifle the soft growl of warning clawing its way up my throat.

  His scowl deepened. “Falling for her will cost you everything you have. Everything we have.”

  “Like falling for Abby cost you?” I snapped.

  “Exactly. But she and I had somewhere to go. If you lose this territory, that won’t be the case for any of us.”

  “It doesn’t have to end like that.”

  “You know they’ll fight for her return, and if we fight to keep her, no stray Pride will ever be recognized.”

  “They didn’t fight over Abby,” I pointed out.

  “Yet.” Something uneasy swept briefly over his expression. “But Abby can’t help them figure out how human women can survive the infection. Or whether or not a female stray’s kids would be shifters,” he adds, and again, the thought of some other man ever touching her made me unreasonably, inexplicably angry. “Robyn represents the future of the US territories, and they’re not going to let her go without a fight.” Jace took a deep breath. “Either she goes to the Prides, or they’ll come in and get her.”

  “I know.” He was right. But Robyn was also right. She was a stray, and I’d sworn to fight for the rights and acceptance of strays under my protection. That was the only reason I’d been able to recruit twelve enforcers and command the loyalty of my other Pride members.

  That was something I believed in.

  Returning Robyn against her will would be a violation of everything I’d sworn to uphold as the first stray Alpha.

  But if I kept her, my days as Alpha would be numbered.

  I had to send her back.

  “Why don’t you let me make the call?” Jace offered. “I’ve
known Faythe her whole life.”

  “No.” If I let Jace make the call, it would look like he was in charge. My Pride. My decision. My responsibility. “I got it.”

  “Fine,” Jace growled. “But if it starts to go south, let me talk to Faythe. She’ll listen to me.”

  “It’s not going to go south.” I pulled up Faythe Sanders’s contact information on my phone. “You’re up, Robyn.” I pressed “call,” then tapped the speakerphone button and set the phone on the island. She looked up at me, panic shining in her big blue eyes, and hurriedly swallowed the bite of ham sandwich she’d been chewing. “I’ll start,” I said, as the ringing echoed around my kitchen. “But then it’s all you.”

  Static cut into the ringing, then there was a brief silence. “Hello? Titus?” Faythe said.

  Robyn sucked in a breath and held it. She looked terrified, but determined.

  “Yeah,” I answered as I sank into one of the bar stools. “Are you alone?”

  “Um…I can be. One minute.” Hinges squealed over the line, then a door clicked closed. “What’s going on, Titus? We have our hands full here.”

  “So do we. I have a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “The five-foot-eight, blue-eyed brunette kind of problem.” I glanced at Robyn and found her carefully peeling the crust from the top slice of bread on her sandwich. Watching me nervously. “The kind that sneaks into your car and hitches a ride out of her territory completely without your knowledge.”

  “Shit.” Springs groaned softly over the line as Faythe sat. “Robyn?”

  “Yes. And let me reiterate that I crossed the border with no idea she was in my car.” My phrasing was careful, but accurate.

  Faythe sighed over the static. “Who else knows about this?”

  “Just the four of us,” Jace said. “Me, Abby, Titus, and Robyn, of course. And a few of Titus’s enforcers.”

  “Robyn’s there now?” Faythe asked, and I could practically hear the frown in her voice. “Is she listening?”

  “Yeah,” my uninvited guest spoke up, at last. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rile everyone up. I only—”

  “Stop talking, Robyn,” Faythe ordered, and in that instant, despite all the other roles she played in her life, she was all Alpha. So Alpha, in fact, that the hairs on my neck stood up, as I became instinctively affronted by the assertion of her authority in my kitchen. “I’m going to ask some questions, and I want you to answer as succinctly as possible. With no extraneous information.”

  Because she’d be obligated to report everything Robyn said to the rest of the council.

  “Okay…” Robyn glanced at Abby, who gave her an encouraging nod. Then she looked at me.

  I wanted to tell her to relax. That everything would be fine. But I couldn’t figure out how to do that without lying.

  “How did you get into Titus’s car?” Faythe asked.

  “He left it unlocked.”

  “And you knew it was his car?”

  “Yes,” Robyn said. “I knew he’d be leaving—”

  “That’s enough,” I cut in. “Only answer what she asks.”

  “Did Titus know you were in his car?” Faythe continued, as we all stared at my phone on the white granite countertop.

  “Not until I showed myself. After we’d already crossed the border,” Robyn added.

  “Okay. Titus, I have to ask…” Faythe said, and I closed my eyes. I knew what was coming. “Why didn’t you smell her?”

  “Because she hid in the back, beneath the clothes from my gym bag.”

  “She hid herself in your scent.”

  “Yes.” And the fact that she still smelled like me made it difficult to concentrate, with her standing so close.

  “All right. Titus—”

  “This is my fault,” Robyn interrupted, a bit of bread crust crushed in her fist. “I snuck out. Titus had nothing to do with it. Don’t penalize him and his Pride for what I did.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple,” Faythe said. “But you can fix this—”

  A door squealed open over the line, and Faythe’s chair springs creaked again, as she swiveled. “Faythe? We…” Chairman Rick Wade’s sentence faded into nothing. “Who’s on the phone?”

  “It’s Titus,” Faythe said, and everyone in my kitchen went completely still. “The good news is that Robyn’s safe.”

  “Damn it,” Wade swore. “I assume the bad news is that he has her?”

  “Yes, but he didn’t take her. She stowed away in his car. He and Robyn are on speaker phone.”

  “Give it here,” Wade said, and I realized Faythe hadn’t mentioned Abby or Jace. “Titus, take me off speaker.”

  I picked up my phone and tapped the speaker button to turn it off. “I’m here. Listen, I—”

  “Send her back,” Rick Wade interrupted. “I’ll have someone meet you at the border. That’s the only way to keep this thing from—”

  I stood so fast my barstool nearly fell over. “With all due respect, Mr. Chairman, I don’t take orders from you.”

  The chairman’s silence was swallowed by twin groans, one from Faythe over the line, and one from Jace, in my kitchen.

  “Titus, I want you to think carefully about how you answer my next question. Are you saying you won’t return Robyn? And please keep in mind that you have no standing on the council and no business interfering in the council’s affairs.”

  “Robyn made this my business. I didn’t take her. She snuck out. And she doesn’t seem inclined to return.”

  Robyn’s eyes widened, but Jace scowled. “Don’t,” he mouthed silently.

  I marched out of the kitchen, down the main hallway, and into my office, intentionally cutting everyone else out of the discussion. This was my problem. I would deal with it my way.

  “Mr. Alexander, you have a petition sitting before the council right now,” Chairman Wade continued, as I closed the door. “Do you really want to shoot yourself in the foot?”

  “Are you saying you won’t approve the petition if I don’t send Robyn back to you? Against her will?”

  “Of course not!” Faythe spoke up, her voice thin over the distance. “The council cannot be bribed, and we don’t operate through coercion!”

  “I’m saying that what you’ve done won’t garner any good will with the other council members.” Leather squeaked, and I recognized the sound from Bert Di Carlo’s office couch as Wade took a seat. “But doing the right thing here could buy you some good will.”

  “The right thing? Dragging a woman across territorial boundaries so you can lock her up again?”

  “Giving her a safe escort into the Southeast Territory, so she can honor the deal she made. That’s in everyone’s best interest, Titus. Including Robyn’s. And if you make this easy for everyone, I’d be happy to let the other council members know how instrumental you were in returning Robyn to us safely. Beyond that, Faythe and I will call in every favor we owe. We’ll do everything we can to get your petition approved. You’ll be Alpha of the first new territory this council has acknowledged in two centuries. You’ll be the first stray to ever sit on the council.”

  “Marc sits on the council,” I pointed out, and the fact that he couldn’t seem to remember that gave me little faith that he would remember the promises he was making to me. Or that I’d be taken seriously on the council, even if I were granted a seat.

  “Marc is a co-Alpha,” Wade insisted. “He and Faythe share a vote. You’ll have your own. We’re ready to move into the future with you and your Pride, Titus. But we need you to show a little respect for the institution you want to join. Robyn made a deal with the council. If you want to sit on that council, you have to uphold its interests.”

  Well. That couldn’t be any clearer. I sank into my office chair and closed my eyes. “So, I scratch your back and you scratch mine.”

  “It sounds bad when you put it that way,” Faythe said. “Look, I sympathize with Robyn’s situation more than anyone. I
f I could give her freedom, I would. But she agreed to the terms of her training and rehabilitation, and the council can’t afford to set a precedent by letting her walk out on an agreement. Beyond that, Titus, she killed four people. Four humans.”

  “Four humans who knew about shifters and were actively hunting them,” I reminded them, mentally searching for a way out of this. A way to make everyone happy. “Four humans you’d have taken out yourself, if you’d known what was going on.”

  “Four humans we would have dealt with much more carefully, with as little media coverage as possible. Look, we all want what’s best for Robyn, but we can’t let her out into the world until we’re sure she can control herself. Until we’re sure life won’t trigger instincts she can’t yet control. That’s in everyone’s best interest. Help us help her. Please.”

  “Fine.” I didn’t really have any choice in the matter. “But let me do it my way.”

  Rick Wade growled. “This isn’t a negotia—”

  “What’s your way?” Faythe interrupted.

  “Robyn came here to see Abby. She feels isolated and disenfranchised. So let her spend time here with her friend. With a fellow tabby.”

  “Absolutely not,” Wade snapped.

  “If you don’t, she’ll fight us all, every step of the way,” I told them. “And she’ll run away from you again, the next chance she gets. If you want her to stay, you’re going to have to show her why she should.”

  “What makes you think she won’t run from you, like she ran from us?” the chairman demanded.

  “We have Abby.” That was a low blow to a father missing his daughter. But it was the truth. “She’s the only person Robyn trusts. And if that doesn’t convince you, you have my word that I won’t let her out of my sight.”

  “How much time would you need?” Faythe asked, over Wade’s disgruntled mumbling.

  “Give us two weeks with her, and we’ll convince her to return on her own. She’ll finish out her training in the Southeast, fulfilling her obligation to the council. You’ll be the Alphas who got her back without spilling a drop of blood, and I’ll have ‘earned goodwill’ by returning her willingly and in good spirits. Everyone wins.”