My father cleared his throat, startling me out of my thoughts. “Abby, why didn’t you tell us that your roommate had been infected?”
I took a deep breath, then forged ahead. “Because she got sick really fast, and by the time I realized she had scratch-fever, I thought she was dying.” And I was extra glad they’d kicked Robyn out of the room, because she didn’t know that part. “I mean, no other woman’s ever survived infection that I knew of.”
“And after you realized she would live?” Paul Blackwell demanded.
“I didn’t tell anyone then because of this.” I held both arms out to take in the room full of Alphas—an absolute authority unlike anything that had existed in Robyn’s life thus far. “She was scared, and sick, and traumatized. She was having nightmares and flashbacks.”
Most of the faces staring back at me seemed completely unmoved.
I exhaled in frustration, then leaned forward with my arms folded on the table. I tried to meet each of their gazes. I wanted them to understand. “Those men killed her friends right in front of her. They hit her and put a knife to her throat. They dragged her away from everything and everyone she’d ever known and locked her in a basement, where her life was changed forever.”
Faythe’s eyes widened. She knew what that was like. She remembered. But the rest of them...
“You guys have all the power.” I glanced at each of the other Alphas in turn. “All the control. You’ve never been terrified or helpless. You’ve never sat in a dark room waiting, listening, knowing that the next time the door opens, someone’s going to come in and hurt you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You don’t understand how sometimes, even when it’s over, you’re still hurt, and scared, and everyone wants you to tell them that you’re fine, or that you’re not fine, but really you just want to be left alone.”
Faythe nodded, and her eyes looked extra shiny. My father’s jaw was clenched with the reminder of what I’d been through and why I might over-empathize with Robyn’s trauma. Several of the other Alphas looked uncomfortable.
“You wanted my frame of mind? There you go. I knew that Robyn just wanted to be left alone, and that you guys would never let that happen. Which was a shame, because Robyn wasn’t just healing from a violent crime. She was dealing with bloodlust, and overwhelming new instincts, and radically enhanced senses. Less than a week later, she was back in class, trying to keep up with school on top of everything else.
“Robyn’s strong and smart, but she grew up as a twenty-first-century human woman with no concept of the kind of authority an Alpha wields. Much less an entire council full of them. The last thing she needed was ten strangers telling her she’d have to give up the career she’s been working toward since she was sixteen so she can pick a husband and raise a litter of shifter babies. Not to mention the genetic testing and clinical observation. Being kidnapped and infected was unfair enough. I couldn’t break the rest of it to her without giving her time to heal. And I wouldn’t have had any time to give her, if anyone else knew about her. So I tried to protect her.”
Faythe smiled, and for several seconds, no one else seemed to know what to say. I turned to look at Jace, and he gave me the smallest, most Alpha-appropriate nod of approval, but as soon as I turned back to the council, I knew I’d messed up.
Looking at Jace had reminded them of that other thing I’d done wrong. With him.
“And when Robyn started killing people?” Milo Mitchell, Alpha of the Northwest Territory demanded. He’d been one of Jace’s stepfather’s allies, and our new relationship gave him one more reason to hate Jace. “Why didn’t you tell someone about her then?”
“Because I didn’t know what she was doing, at first. The guy in the woods was self-defense. I didn’t know she’d kept killing until she called me from Hargrove’s house, but she didn’t remember any of what she’d done, and we were in the last week of the semester by then, so I decided to talk my dad into letting me stay on campus during the break. I was going to use that time to tell her everything I hadn’t had a chance to tell her before.” I shrugged. “But then Jace came to pick me up early, and I realized that Robyn could be the rogue stray he was looking for.”
“That’s why you forced him to hire you?” Blackwell demanded. “To cover up your roommate’s crimes? And your own?”
“Yes, but that was my fault, not his,” I insisted.
Ed Taylor glanced over my shoulder at Jace, and my pulse picked up speed. “You would never have been able to manipulate your way onto his staff if he hadn’t offered you the job in the first place,” Taylor pointed out. “Employment as an enforcer is not candy to be handed out to children in cute costumes.”
“I’m not a child!” I snapped, and too late, I realized that was strike number two.
“Many enforcers are hired in their early twenties, or even younger,” Faythe pointed out through clenched teeth. “Including both me and Jace.”
Milo Mitchell leaned forward, across the table from Faythe. “And there are some who would suggest those weren’t the wisest hires either. Age is not just a number, Ms. Sanders.”
“A philosophy I’m sure the oldest among us keep close at heart,” she snapped with a sharp glance at the elderly Paul Blackwell, and I wanted to cheer.
Instead, I drew everyone’s focus back to me, to break the tension. “Jace never really intended for me to accept that job. He thought I’d graduate and go back home, and he had no idea what I was up to.”
“Well, he should have,” Mitchell said, and panic swelled inside me when I saw the sentiment echoed on several of the other Alpha’s faces. “Tell us about Gene Hargrove. Why did you kill him?”
“Because if he’d kept talking, Jace would have figured out that Robyn was a stray. I was trying to protect her.”
“Were you not also trying to protect yourself?” Nick Davidson asked, speaking up for the first time.
“No, I was pretty much already screwed,” I said, and when Faythe flinched, I realized they might count “screwed” as profanity. Was that strike three?
“How so?” she asked before anyone could object to my language.
“Well, even if I could have kept everyone from finding out Robyn was the killer, eventually they’d at least find out she existed, and then everyone would know I’d been hiding her.” My open-armed gesture indicated the entire inquisition. “I’d have ended up here anyway, and I knew that from the start.”
“I think we’ve heard enough,” Ed Taylor said, and I swear he glanced at my naked ring finger. “Ms. Wade, is there anything else you’d like to say to the council before we dismiss for deliberation?”
“Um…” I began, as my heart tried to launch itself up my throat, and Faythe motioned for me to rise with a subtle openhanded gesture.
I stood, then started over, my hands clutched in front of my skirt to keep them from shaking. “I just want to thank the council for the opportunity to speak in my own defense.” My father had made me practice it just like that. “And I want to say that I’m so sorry. I was trying to do the best thing for Robyn, and obviously I made the wrong call. But my intent was never to break the council’s laws or defy its authority.”
“Yet that’s exactly what you did,” Taylor observed, and my pulse spiked again. “Our rules exist for a reason, Ms. Wade, and your disregard for them led to the slaughter of four humans and a dangerous amount of news coverage. Your actions are also responsible for delaying our discovery of the hunting club itself, the consequences of which could be far-reaching.” He stood, and my heart dropped into my stomach. “Okay. We’re going to take a minute to deliberate, if we could please have the room.”
I tried not to assume that he hated me just because I’d dumped his son, but I’d pleaded guilty to several very serious charges, depending on the council’s mercy at sentencing, and the temporary chair did not seem to be in a generous mood.
“I don’t think we’ll need very long,” Blackwell mumbled as I turned to leave the room. Several of the others n
odded in agreement.
My father looked like someone was trying to cut his heart out of his chest, right there in front of everyone.
Faythe looked like she wanted to vomit.
That’s when I understood just how badly my inquisition had gone. They weren’t just going to cut off the ends of my fingers or take my canines. They were going to lock me up.
In a cage.
The council would see that as a mercy; after all, they were sparing my life. What they didn’t understand was that I couldn’t survive another cage. I would lose my mind. I would have nothing to do for months—maybe years—on end but remember the last time I’d been locked up.
My chest felt tight and I couldn’t draw in a breath. My mouth opened, and I sucked at a whole room full of air but couldn’t drag any of it in.
Bars. Bruises. Pain.
I bent over with my hands on my knees, fighting the looming panic attack, but the world began to swim around me as I lost the battle.
Locked doors. Blackened windows. Torn clothes.
“You’re dismissed, Abigail,” Paul Blackwell said, and I tried to stand, but my vision flickered and I stumbled.
My father stepped forward and Faythe reached for me, but then Jace was my side, one arm around my waist. Practically holding me up. “Wait. I’d like to address the council,” he said, and the sound of his voice opened my lungs. I sucked in a deep breath, then turned to look up at him, clutching the edge of the table for balance.
The look in his eyes—like a kamikaze in a tailspin—made my heart race in panic.
“No.” I let go of the table and blinked to clear my vision. “Jace, whatever you’re about to do, don’t.”
“Sit.” He pointed at my chair, and my body obeyed before my mind could think to object.
“Let’s hear him,” Blackwell said, and I knew from the glee in the old bastard’s voice that he knew exactly what was about to happen—and that he’d enjoy every minute of it. He’d never been Jace’s biggest fan.
“The council will hear Jace Hammond, Alpha of the Appalachian Pride,” Ed Taylor said, sinking back into his seat at the head of Faythe’s dining room table.
Jace clasped his hands at his back and looked at each of his fellow council members in turn, ending with Ed Taylor. “As her Alpha during the time in question, I take full responsibility for Abby’s actions.”
“No!” I stood again, and that time, no one told me to sit.
Jace didn’t even look at me. “What happens in my territory is ultimately my responsibility, and I should have seen what was going on. If I’d been more involved, I would have figured it out. So, if you have to punish someone, punish me. But leave her alone.”
“Wait a minute!” I turned my back on him to plead with the council. “I’m the one who lied. I manipulated my way into that job, and I’m the one who killed Gene Hargrove. Jace had nothing to do with any of that. He had no idea what I was doing.”
“But don’t you think he should have?” Milo Mitchell leaned back and crossed his hands over his stomach, and anger raced up my spine. He’d always hated Jace and had voted against confirming him as Alpha.
Unfortunately, I had no idea how to answer. Claiming that he couldn’t be held accountable because I’d outsmarted him would not help his case. Before I could come up with a suitable response, Jace answered for me.
“Yes. I should have. I move that the council apply the charges brought against Abby Wade against me instead.”
“Jace…” I turned to him with tears in my eyes. He was ruining his career for me. He was ruining his life for me.
I couldn’t let him do it.
“I move to accept the motion,” my father said, and I spun on him in shock.
“Dad, no!” But my father looked right into my eyes, and I knew I wouldn’t change his mind. He’d found a way to save his only daughter, and he would seize it, no matter who else got hurt.
“I second,” Faythe said, one hand on her swollen belly, and the first tears spilled from my eyes to roll down my cheeks. “All in favor?”
A chorus of “Ayes” rang out, and my throat tried to close around a cry of denial. It was unanimous.
Why was the vote never unanimous in favor of any good idea?
“No!” But instead of shouting at the council again, I turned on Jace. “What did you do?”
“Abby…”
“Take it back!” I shoved him, and he rocked on his feet, but took the blow without complaint. “Take it back!” I pushed him again, and he was against the wall, and everyone was staring. His face blurred beneath my tears, but his blue eyes still burned bright. When I tried to push him again, he pulled me into an embrace, and that’s when I totally lost it, sobbing against his shirt.
The severity of the charges against me easily warranted the death penalty, but lockup was the worst they would have thrown at me, because they needed me. That was the only true break fate had cut me, to make up for the shitty stick I’d drawn, having been born female in an overwhelmingly patriarchal world.
But Jace didn’t have gender on his side.
“Get her out of here,” Milo Mitchell ordered, and my father growled at him.
One of Mitchell’s men grabbed my wrist. Jace snarled, and when the tom didn’t let go of me fast enough, Jace seized his arm and gave it a brutal twist. I heard both bones crack.
The tom backed away from us, whimpering and clutching his broken arm. Mitchell cursed softly and waved his injured enforcer out the door for medical care.
No one else tried to touch me. No one yelled at Jace.
You don’t cross an Alpha in his prime unless you’re looking to get hurt. Or you’re stupid.
Jace guided me toward the doorway himself, and I stepped through it because I had no choice.
Faythe followed me into the hall, ostensibly to use the restroom, but as soon as the door closed behind her, she turned to me, an apology written all over her face. “I’m sorry, Abby. I know how hard this must—”
“Then why would you second the motion?” I demanded, but even with tears in her eyes, she responded calmly.
“There’s more at play here than you understand.”
“Yeah, I get that. But how could you do that to him? You used to love him!”
“And I always will, but not like he loves you.” Faythe exhaled slowly, and I got the impression that she was stalling for time. Trying to figure out how much it would be prudent to explain to me. “Jace is determined to protect you, Abby. If we didn’t give him this option—the option he asked for—he’d find another way, and that would go even worse for him.”
There was something in her gaze. Something she wasn’t saying...
“You all planned this!” I hissed. Suddenly, the hushed phone calls made sense.
“No. He made us promise to support whatever motion he proposed if your hearing went badly, but your father and I didn’t know the details.”
“But they’re going to execute him!” I whispered, terrified of the words even as I said them.
“No.” She wiped tears from my cheeks with her thumbs. “No, Abby, I promise that’s not what they want out of this.”
The confidence in her steady green-eyed gaze gave me no choice but to believe her, so I sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly, counting the beats of my heart as it slowed to a reasonable tempo.
“Jace knows what he’s doing,” Faythe insisted. “He can handle whatever they throw at him, and if he didn’t do everything he could to protect you, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. I know because I feel the same way. We’ve failed you enough.”
“But I’m grown now—”
“Good.” She squared her shoulders, silently demanding I do the same. “Show everyone that by accepting his choice with grace and dignity.” I wasn’t sure I could do that, but she didn’t seem to have any doubt. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really do need the restroom.”
A minute later, the dining room door opened again, and Jace was the first one out. His
gaze found me immediately, and he led me down the hall, out the back door, and across the backyard to the guesthouse, where’d he’d lived when he was my uncle’s enforcer. Mateo sat on the steps, elbows propped on widespread knees, but he stood when his Alpha approached.
“Anyone in there?” Jace nodded at the closed front door of the guesthouse.
Teo shook his head. “They’re all in the main house, waiting on the sentence.” He obviously didn’t know what Jace had just done.
“Good. Make sure we’re not disturbed, but knock when the council calls us.”
Teo nodded and opened the guesthouse door for us, then closed it as Jace led me inside. I could see Teo through the glass panel in the door, standing with thick arms crossed over his broad chest. No one would get past him without taking a beating. And making one hell of a racket.
Jace gestured toward the stairs, and I turned on him the moment my feet hit the second floor landing.
“Why?” I demanded. He tried to pull me close, but I pushed him away and crossed my arms. I’d had enough of Alphas, and politics, and tears. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I love you. Because I need to protect you.”
Each word was an arrow shot straight through my heart. Love was supposed to make people happy, not tear them apart. “That’s not… You can’t…” I needed to argue, and he wasn’t fighting fair. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No one ever accused love of making sense, Abby. You and Brian made sense, yet that went nowhere because it meant nothing. This.” He held my arms and looked straight into my eyes. “You and me. No matter how far apart we are or now much time passes, we will never mean nothing.” He shrugged, and a hint of a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “We may also never make sense, but that just means we’ll never be bored.”
I leaned against the banister and had to concentrate to think past what he was saying. Past words that triggered every urge I’d ever had to touch him. Words that made me want to crawl into his lap and purr, and write “Back off, bitches!” on his forehead.
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