by Dean Murray
The wolf still hit me, but Geoffrey's strike had killed him. Rather than gray snapping, clawing death, I was hit by nothing more than dead weight, but the collision was still more than enough to send me sprawling backwards.
As I tumbled through the air my beast finally found the energy to force my body through the sweet pain of a transformation. I hit the floor as a hybrid and then rolled over backwards and landed on my feet.
The Duluth pack was moving towards us, fanning out to make sure that they could surround us, but a second corpse was already resting at Geoffrey's feet and they were obviously not eager to come within range of his sword.
The other pack was down to eight living moonborn, but that would still be more than enough to kill the two of us unless I was able to come up with some way to stop them from coming after us all at once.
"Stop!"
I'd opened my mouth without a clear plan, with no real idea how to save Geoffrey and me, but as the words came out I realized that there was a single pretext under which what I'd done might not be considered a gross violation of everything the challenge law stood for.
I didn't actually expect my yell to give pause to any of the wolves or hybrids stalking towards me, but Stekensbridge echoed the order a split second later.
"What do you want, Bianchi?"
"He killed my mother in an unlawful attack nearly two decades ago. My killing him was nothing less than the king's justice."
"We don't have a king now."
Stekensbridge's words came out low and angry, but some of his pack members were backing away, slowly, almost as if they were hoping that he wouldn't notice what they were doing.
"You may not have a king, but I do, and it's only a matter of time before Alec overthrows the Coun'hij. When that happens, anyone who treats what just happened as anything other than justice will pay the ultimate price."
"How will he know? Your pet vampire isn't going to have a chance to text him before you're both dead."
I shrugged. "These things have a way of coming to light sooner or later. It's always a surprise when you actually figure out who spilled the beans. For something like this Alec would grant a pardon to whoever steps forward first, but he'll only grant a single pardon, everyone else will be killed."
I could see wolves and hybrids alike looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes. It was time to drive the knife in a little more.
"All I'm trying to point out is that attacking Geoffrey and me would be running an awful big risk to avoid having to face me in the ring yourself."
Hybrid faces didn't show quite the same range of emotion as what a human face could, but there was no mistaking the fact that Stekensbridge was pissed. I'd just mousetrapped him quite handily, but that didn't stop him from trying to weasel his way out.
"You'll never make it past my challengers. Either way I won't have to bother with putting you out of your misery."
"Are you so sure of that? Wasn't Branson your best fighter?"
"You killed him through trickery, you couldn't have beaten him in a fair fight."
I couldn't help it, I grinned at him as I responded this time. "I guess we'll never know. Personally I think he would have been easy meat, but I couldn't take that risk. An execution, the delivery of justice, couldn't be allowed to interfere with this particular challenge match."
He opened his mouth to rebut that, but I didn't give him a chance. "The law is on your side, Stekensbridge, if you want to get some more of your people killed trying to save your own throat and they are willing to die for you then there's nothing I can do about it other than to kill each of them. When was the last time you all went up against a hybrid powerful enough to shift just their hands? Were they as big as I am?"
That had him. In a strong, unified pack the alpha could afford to exchange barbs with a challenger, but they rarely needed to. It was only a weak pack, one beset by divisions where the alpha had to trade insults. Refusing to hear the challenger out could be construed as a weakness and weakness invariably made the submissives less willing to fight in your behalf. If you matched wits and came out ahead you could motivate your people to make an even stronger showing, but if you did poorly then wolves and hybrids who otherwise would have fought for you decided that they weren't willing to risk their skins on your behalf.
Stekensbridge had gambled and lost. He could order people to fight me, but that would just make things worse for him in the long run. He needed to beat me and it needed to be a decisive win, especially now that he'd lost his main enforcer.
"Very well, I'll kill you myself. I don't care how big and strong you are, you haven't been a hybrid for long enough to be worthy of my time, but I'm not opposed to proving that with fang and claw."
I waved Geoffrey back outside of the circle and then watched as the rest of the Duluth pack withdrew as well. It was time to control my breathing once again. Our circle back home was sand. We had another circle cut into the floor of one of the caves below the manor, but we rarely if ever used it. I couldn't remember the last time I'd fought on stone, but I knew it was going to be tricky. Stone didn't absorb the force of your lunges the way that sand did, but it was so slick that in some ways it was worse.
With sand if you wanted to move faster you just had to push harder. With stone there was a practical limit to how quickly you could change direction. It didn't matter how strong you were, talons only gripped so well.
Stekensbridge moved towards me across the scarred surface of the rock and I told myself for the final time that it didn't matter how little experience I had fighting in this form. I was bigger and stronger, I just needed to keep him at arm's length long enough for him to start getting tired and then I could end the fight all at once when he couldn't keep up anymore.
I feinted forward and smiled when Stekensbridge darted back with more speed than the attack justified. He was scared. It was starting to look like he was out of practice. Branson had been fighting too many of Stekensbridge's fights over the last couple of decades.
My moment of moral superiority was short-lived. I moved forward, trying to force him even further back, but he changed directions with impressive speed, springing forward and raking me across the outside of my left arm.
I countered, slashing at his face, but that was a mistake, his head was too mobile and he managed to avoid my attack. I took another slash, this time to my left leg before I managed to land a blow of my own on him.
His shoulder was dripping a slow flow of blood, but I was bleeding in two spots and starting to realize that he was doing to me exactly what I'd been planning on doing to him. If he continued to land two blows for every one of mine then it wouldn't matter how much bigger and stronger I was, I'd still end up bleeding out.
I tried to push the tempo of the fight. I couldn't change direction much if any faster than him, but I was stronger, which meant that he couldn't match my upper body speed. I drove him back before me with a barrage of slashes. High and low, left and right, I worked every possible angle of attack, and I was rewarded with a host of cuts to his arms, but he just kept backing away from me, denying me the critical wounds I was going for as he led me around the edge of the circle.
He was tiring, he had to be under the fury of my assault, but I was tiring too, and even my massive hybrid muscles weren't going to be able to continue to keep up this level of aggression forever. My lungs sucked air in with big gasps, but I was still managing to keep him off balance and on the defensive right up until he saw an opening and charged me.
I tried to get out of his way, tried to knock the cruel edge of his claws away, but neither effort was fully successful. He scored a deep slash along the outside of my leg and a tremor of weakness raced up the damaged limb.
I could still walk on it, but I could tell that it was nearly done for. Any additional blows to that leg would put me down on the ground for sure and there was a possibility that even too sudden a move would cause it to collapse underneath me.
Stekensbridge should have pushed t
he attack and capitalized on my new vulnerability. It was what I would have done, but apparently he felt the need to recapture some of the credibility he'd lost before we started fighting.
"Maybe next time you'll all do your job and take down the challenger rather than making me deal with them. I can promise you all that you're going to regret standing down today."
The words were just a distraction. Even as the last one left his lips he sprang at me with the force of three hundred pounds of raging hybrid. I wanted to dodge out of the way. Every instinct I'd been born with, every reflex I'd spent so many hours as a wolf wiring into place said that meeting that kind of charge head-on was just asking to be killed, but I couldn't move and I knew it.
I tried to move to the side regardless, but my leg started to give way and instead I was forced to step forward to avoid falling. My left hand went down, claws digging into the rock floor beneath me in an effort to convert all of that shaky momentum into something I could use.
I hadn't realized just how outclassed I was until that instant, until I saw Stekensbridge dart to the side. He was still going to hit me, he was still leading with the claws of his right hand, but rather than just crashing directly into me he'd changed his course enough that he would bury his hand in my stomach and then use it as a fulcrum to swing around behind me. Once he was behind me, I would be as good as dead, but I didn't have the mobility required to get out of his way.
With all other options closed to me, I did the only thing I could think of. I let his fist sink into my guts, but I drove my own claws into his shoulder and then I pulled with every ounce of strength I had. My left hand pushed off against the rock at my feet to give me a little extra rotational momentum, but what happened next still shouldn't have been possible.
Stekensbridge curled around to the right just as he'd intended, his fist sending bright ribbons of pain through me, but he moved with incredible slowness. Instead of him snapping around behind me and grabbing me, I used the force of his charge to pivot around on my uninjured right leg, and a second later I was behind him and my left hand was sinking into his back.
My right arm was a single bar of fiery pain, but I refused to let go of his shoulder until I had a better grip on him with my left hand. I sank the talons on my left foot into the back of his leg. I couldn't use that to lever myself up any higher, not with my leg weak and shaking like it was, but it served to help reduce his mobility.
The metallic snick as my left hand closed around a pair of ribs was all the reassurance I was going to get. I let go with my right hand and buried it in the meat where his neck and shoulder met. If I'd been fighting a werewolf I never would have been able to climb up high enough to put him down, but Stekensbridge was shorter than me by a few inches and it only took a few more seconds before I was able to end him with two violent motions that left me exhausted and shaking.
I looked out at the remaining members of the pack, meeting each set of eyes until they'd looked away, acknowledging my greater strength. The wolves were all too submissive to question my claim, and I could practically read the thoughts of the remaining hybrid.
Challenging me right now would go against every unwritten law the moonborn believed in, but doing so would practically guarantee he'd win and become the new alpha, only his tenure at that point would be painfully short. He wasn't intimidating or deadly enough to stem the tide of dispossessed hybrids who would be headed this way in the next few weeks.
"I rule here in Duluth now. You all live by my sufferance, you all shelter under the strength of my arm."
Chapter 13
Geoffrey
Stekensbridge House
Duluth, Minnesota
Geoffrey stood guard outside of Jasmin's suite of rooms, the suite that had belonged to Stekensbridge until she'd killed him, for nearly twelve hours before she finally stumbled back out dressed in what he was pretty sure was her last change of clothes.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like I nearly lost my first hybrid-on-hybrid fight and almost died in the process, but other than that I'm okay. What about you?"
"I'm getting tired…and hungry, but I'm okay for now. The rest of the pack has been milling around in the house. They are staying just out of sight, but apparently haven't realized that I'm a mentalist so they haven't been staying far enough away to stop me from sensing their presence."
"How much hungrier are you?"
"A lot hungrier. I didn't realize how much of a relationship there is between using my gift and the growth of the hunger. Don't worry though, I've still got things under control."
Jasmin had been walking towards the long hall that led to the front door, but Geoffrey's admission made her stop and look at him.
"You used your power on Stekensbridge, didn't you?"
Geoffrey would have been much happier if that particular fact hadn't ever come to light, but he wasn't about to lie to Jasmin, not when she asked him a direct question.
"Yes, right after you killed Branson. I helped tip the scales so that he ordered everyone back. I knew he needed to listen to your justification. If I hadn't pushed when I did, then he would have had the rest of the pack just rip you apart."
Jasmin pursed her lips. "I didn't think you were that strong. Invading the mind of a shape shifter like that is no small accomplishment."
"Honestly I wasn't sure that I would be able to pull it off either, but I knew I had to try something. There was no way that we were going to cut our way out of there."
"I won't deny that it cheapens the victory a bit to know that you had your hands in it, but the truth is that you're probably right, so thank you for saving my skin—several times as I recall."
Jasmin seemed to sense that Geoffrey wasn't particularly comfortable with the direction of the conversation. She only let the silence stretch out for a couple of seconds before continuing.
"How much have you been able to pull from the minds of my pack? Have any of them started spreading the news of what happened yet?"
"Mostly I've just picked up surface thoughts. I haven't wanted to penetrate too deeply, not after you warned me that your beasts are able to sense intrusions and then help you fight. Still, nobody seems to be in a state of mind to do anything other than just wait and see what kind of an alpha you're going to be."
"Nobody?"
"The hybrid, Jorge, seems like the one most likely to give you trouble, but you don't need me to tell you that."
"Right, he's the next most dominant, but is that the only reason?"
"I'm not sure. If you can get the two of us alone with him for a few minutes I might be able to get more out of him. Are you ready for another fight if he realizes what I'm doing?"
Jasmin rubbed her side absently for a couple of seconds before nodding. "Yeah, I can take him if it comes to that. It won't be pretty, but it should be doable."
The seven remaining original members of the pack were waiting in a large solarium that was mounted on the south side of the house. Geoffrey followed Jasmin into the airy, sunlit space and found, not to his surprise, that they were all standing, uneasily watching the two new arrivals.
"Please be seated, all of you. We have a lot to discuss and not much time to do it in."
A tall, slender guy who looked like he was in his late twenties shook his head. "We'd all just as soon stand."
Geoffrey's mental probes confirmed that this was Jorge, the one he'd felt, the one who'd spent the last two hours trying to work up the courage to confront Jasmin. This close it was easier to pick up more of what was skittering across the surface of Jorge's mind and Geoffrey wasn't surprised to find out that Jorge had been trying very hard to follow in Branson's footsteps and win himself a spot on the Coun'hij.
"Jorge, is it?"
Jorge stuck his chin out truculently. "Yeah, that's me."
Jasmin smiled and then backhanded Jorge hard enough that the older hybrid fell back over a heavy black metal chair. Before Jorge could claw his way back up to his feet, Jasmin stepped on his right arm a
nd looked down at him with a face that had suddenly gone colder than the snow outside.
"Unless you've got a mouse in your pocket you should probably stop using the royal we. Based on the fact that your friends are all sitting politely in their chairs just like I asked them to, you don't speak for them anymore than you speak for me."
"I'll see you dead for that!"
Jorge looked like he wanted to spring to his feet and rip Jasmin's throat out, but her other foot was poised just inches away from his throat. Geoffrey knew they were in every bit as much danger as they'd been down in the circle after Jasmin had killed Branson, but Jasmin seemed completely unconcerned about what the rest of the pack might choose to do, her focus was on Jorge and only Jorge.
Geoffrey rested his hands on his sword's hilt and forced himself to turn away from Jasmin and Jorge so that he could keep an eye on the other five shape shifters. It wasn't something that he liked doing. Jorge was the single most dangerous person remaining in the pack and having him at his back made Geoffrey's shoulder blades itch.
There was nothing to do but just suck it up and trust that Jasmin could control the confrontation. The sense of hot prickles dancing across his skin suddenly increased as he heard Jasmin lean forward.
"I don't think that you have the spine to try it, but any time you want to take a shot at me just say the word. I'd like nothing better than to kill you and rid myself of the incessant headaches that I suspect you're going to cause me."
"You wouldn't dare. Without me there's nobody between you and any challengers."
"Yeah, I saw how much help you were for Stekensbridge, I'm sure I would be completely lost without you. Now are you going to toe the line or should we just get this out of the way right now?"
The heat behind him was exponentially hotter than it had been a second before. Geoffrey couldn't help himself, he stole a glance back at Jasmin and Jorge and saw that Jorge had gone almost completely white. Jasmin stepped away from Jorge and then waved Geoffrey to a chair.
