by JC Holly
“So there are others?”
“Some smaller ones in the area, yeah. None that I’d want to be involved with, though.”
Conor nodded. “So what’s your plan?”
Ethan scratched the scar on his neck. “First I want to see what Craig has to say. If I can end it without bloodshed, I will, but it’s unlikely at this point. It’s really up to him. I’ll try and talk him down, but if he challenges me, I have to accept.”
“Why?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You mean apart from the fact that I’m pretty sure he’s behind the attacks on Avani and me? It’s a question of honour. If he challenges me and I decline, I’m showing myself as weak. It might end things for the time being, but it would certainly lead to other challenges in the future.”
“And you can’t just kick this Craig guy out of the pack?”
“Not without evidence.”
“But you’re the leader!” Conor shook his head. “I don’t—”
“I have to follow the same rules as every other member. If I start making rules up, they won’t respect me.”
Conor shook his head again, but didn’t push the matter. The notion of defending honour made sense to him, as did the need for evidence, but it pissed him off that it was happening to Ethan. The man had feelings for him, and he more than shared them. And this Craig guy could jeopardise everything, just for a little power.
* * * *
Like with the apartment, Ethan made Conor stop short of their destination, then scouted ahead to the truck. No new scents were in the air, and there were no fresh tracks, so Ethan headed back to Conor, and they drove back to the truck together.
“Hell of a vehicle you got there,” Conor said with a smirk as he pulled the spares from his back seats.
“She’s my girl,” Ethan said, patting the side of the truck. “Had her for decades, and she’s never given me a problem.”
“Until now.”
“This was hardly her fault.”
“True.” Conor rolled two wheels toward Ethan, then grabbed the others. “So you think Craig did this?”
Ethan rolled the jack under the back of the truck and began cinching the rear left side of the truck up. Thankfully it looked like the damage was limited to just the tyres.
“Yup. The only recent scents are mine, Avani’s and Craig’s. Both of them from run-ins in the bar car park.”
“And you don’t suspect Avani?”
“I’d trust her with my life. Besides, her leg was hurt. I doubt she’d have been able to run out here and back at the time.”
The wheels went on without too much difficulty, and Ethan threw the slashed ones in the back, then covered them with a tarp. The truck started on the first time, as he expected, and he patted the dash gently before jumping out. Conor was waiting by his car.
“So, all ready?”
“Pretty much.”
“Sure you shouldn’t take a weapon or something?”
Ethan smirked. Humans. “No, no weapons. If I can’t beat him with teeth and claws, I don’t deserve to win.”
Conor crossed his arms. “And what if Craig is less honourable?”
“He won’t have a weapon. Now come here.”
Conor stepped up to Ethan, and Ethan pulled him close and kissed him on the lips, pausing to savour the taste of him.
“Remember what I said?”
Conor nodded. “Go get Tommy, head to a friend’s place, wait for a call.”
“That’s right.” Ethan kissed him again. “Then I’ll come get you, we’ll go back to your place, and I’ll fuck you till you’re sore.”
Conor laughed and punched Ethan on the arm. “So about five minutes with that cock of yours.”
Ethan smiled. “Everything will be fine, okay?”
“Okay.”
Ethan watched Conor climb back into his car and drive away before jumping into his truck and turning her around. Everything felt just fine, but he tested the brakes a few times before hitting the roads.
As he drove to the meeting place, he flipped on the radio for some distraction. Some old rock band that he couldn’t remember the name of was playing. It’d do. He was in no mood for a fight, so he needed all the help he could get. Not that he’d have any difficulty getting angry once he saw Craig again.
Chapter Twelve
The mill hadn’t seen this many people since the last time it was open. Or the last pack meeting, anyway.
Ethan pulled his truck up to an empty spot right next to the front door. Craig wasn’t there to see his arrival, unfortunately, but his car was nearby, along with the cars of every other pack member.
He climbed out of his truck and jumped to the ground and was about to head inside when he spotted Avani’s car pulling in the car park. He waited for her to park and headed over. She got out and closed her car door. She had a slim folder under her arm.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m good. Pretty much healed up. You?”
Ethan held the collar of his shirt to one side so Avani could see. “Fine. Good to go.”
“I’m glad.” She tapped the folder under her arm. “Got what you wanted. You were right, it seems.”
Ethan grinned for the first time since Conor had left. “I don’t know if it’ll help me knock this crap down before it escalates, but it can’t hurt.”
“What can’t hurt?”
They both turned at the voice to find Craig stood behind them.
“A knife to the dick, since I ain’t got one,” Avani said with a smirk. “How about you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Smarmy bastard. Ethan realised his fists were clenched, and he forced himself to relax. “Craig.”
Craig dipped his head in a micro-bow. “Boss. Thought you might be dead.”
“Why’d you think that, Craig?”
He shrugged. “Just a rumour going around.”
“Nasty things, rumours.”
The pair exchanged a long stare until someone came out of the mill entrance and waved them over.
“We’re all here,” one of the advisors called. “If you’re ready?”
Ethan started forward, leading the three of them. Part way across the car park, he rolled his neck and winced, letting out a low growl. He shrugged his shoulder, too, for good measure, as surreptitiously as he could while still making it noticeable to Craig. It worked.
“Hurt yourself, boss?”
“Something like that.”
The mill was much the same as Ethan remembered it from his last visit. The insides of the place had been long stripped, leaving one enormous, high-ceilinged room, only interrupted by the steel and cement pillars that held up the roof.
Avani sniffed the air and let out a sigh. “Last time I was here, I was made your second.”
Ethan nodded as they headed toward the very centre of the room. “I remember. You fought like nothing I’d seen.”
“Didn’t fight so well recently,” Craig said from behind. “Judging by that limp, I mean.”
Avani growled, but Ethan placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head softly, again wincing slightly.
The centre of the floor had been altered to suit the pack’s needs. The area had once been home to a block of offices on the mill floor, but where once was a concrete floor topped with soft carpeting, was a thirty-feet-wide ring of grass.
On discovering the place, the pack had hacked up the concrete floor and dug down through the foundations until they’d hit dirt. They had then brought in ton after ton of earth, bringing the ground back up to the level of the floor, and then seeded the dirt. It had taken a lot of work, as well as some “adjustments” to the roof, but after a few months, they had what they needed. Wolves fight best outside, so they brought it inside where they could contain the noise and evidence.
As Ethan approached, three members of the lowest rung of the pack finished up their inspection of the circle and stepped out to the outer limit, taking a few pieces of detritus with th
em. Happy that the circle was clear, each member of the pack pulled off their shoes and walked into the very centre, forming a circle about ten feet across.
“So, Craig.” Ethan gestured to the pack. “You brought us all here for an emergency. What’s wrong?”
Craig was stood directly opposite him, no doubt intentionally. He pointed at Ethan’s chest. “You are.”
A ripple of murmurs spread, and Ethan didn’t try to stop it. Let them say what they wished to each other. Let them form their opinions. Ethan was in control.
“I think you’d better explain yourself, Craig.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
Craig stepped forward, as was typical for an accuser in these matters, and Ethan did the same. The pack shuffled until they closed the two gaps the men had made, sealing them in and stopping either from running.
“I call a vote of no confidence,” Craig said, his eyes on Ethan’s.
Ethan let the murmurs die down. “State your reasons.”
“Cowardice, weakness, and dereliction of duty.
The murmurs turned into shouts of anger and support. Ethan tried not to note the faces of those in agreement, knowing that they’d change their tune soon enough, but he couldn’t help it. A ball of heat formed in the pit of his stomach as he looked on those who considered the accusations true. Men and women he had recruited, trained, and protected.
“Elaborate,” he replied, barely able not to snarl.
“Let’s start with the night at the bar, shall we?”
“We already discussed that, Craig,” one of the advisors shouted from behind Ethan.
“Yes, Steven, we did. But it serves to illustrate my point, and should thusly be mentioned.”
Thusly? Has he been reading Shakespeare? Ethan restrained the smile. “Let Craig speak. The time for argument is afterward.”
Craig dipped his head in thanks, a sneer on his lips. “Cowardice. Instead of facing down those men, or even better, attacking them, as is your responsibility as pack leader, you talked and talked until they got bored of you and left.”
“Not quite how I remember it, Craig.”
“Maybe your memory is going in your old age.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Careful, child.”
“Weakness. According to reports, you were attacked two nights ago, by two wolves.” Craig paused until the shocked shouts subsided. “You were wounded. Hence the high-collared shirt.” He smirked. “And where did you go afterward? To a hospital? To a pack member? No, you ran to a local human and cowered until you stopped bleeding.”
He knew about Conor. Fuck! While there was nothing wrong with a pack member dating a human, Craig made it sound like he had hid with his tail between his legs. Not the behaviour of a pack leader.
“That a fact?” Ethan managed to snarl in reply.
“Yes, it is. Would you like to see the photos?”
He retrieved a folder from the back pocket of his jeans and dropped three large photos onto the ground between them. They showed Conor walking through the woods, Tommy and Ethan in wolf form walking beside him. Suddenly he wished he’d investigated the “jogger” he’d smelt.
“Your owner talking you for a walk?” Craig grinned. “Forget your leash?”
The ring erupted in angry cries. The pack didn’t need to get close to see the pictures. They all had the eyesight of wolves, after all.
“Have to admit, boss,” Craig continued. “Doesn’t look good.”
Ethan shrugged, less so on his wounded side. “And I suppose the dereliction of duty is based on the fact that I was off the grid for two days.”
Craig nodded. “Two days in which anything could have happened. The pack could have been attacked by another pack, and you’d have known nothing about it. Too busy sucking Conor’s cock.”
The pack roared in a mixture of defence for Ethan and damnation for his actions. The ball of heat in stomach increased in size at the sound of the dissenters. The ungrateful bastards, willing to jump at Craig’s words without listening to Ethan’s. Maybe a pruning was in order after this was over with.
Ethan let the noise die down to total silence before he stooped and picked up the pictures.
“I don’t need to explain my actions in the bar. It’s old news.” He flicked a photo with a finger. “Since these are right here, I’ll start with them.”
Craig folded his arms across his chest and nodded. “Go ahead.”
“I met Conor in the bar. We hooked up, then we did again on another occasion. The pack has no rules regarding relationships with humans. Given that more than half of us are gay, it’s not like we’re missing opportunities on making more shifters, is it?”
A few pack members laughed. Good. He hadn’t lost them entirely.
“On the night of the attack, I was indeed left wounded. Imagine my surprise when I headed back to my truck to get somewhere safe, when I found someone had slashed my tyres.” A low murmur. “Thing is, there were only three scents around my truck. Mine, Avani’s, who could hardly have run out with a torn leg, and yours, Craig.”
Craig’s eyes widened a fraction, but it was hardly damning. “Then you missed a scent. Easy enough when you’re in a hurry.”
“So kind of you to say.” Ethan smirked. “So, with no truck, and nothing close enough for me to run to in human form, I had to move fast to somewhere close before I bled out.” He tapped a photo. “Conor’s house was the closest, and I barely even made it there. After that, we became closer, as two people often do in stressful situations. As for the photos, I needed to stretch my legs after sitting on my ass recuperating for a day.”
“So you admit that you were weakened, and probably still are?”
“Have you ever fought two shifters at once, Craig?” Ethan glanced about the circle. “The rest of you? I see a few nods, but most haven’t. It’s not like a one-on-one, Craig. While one’s attacking you from the front, the other is circling, looking for body parts to rip apart. Yes, I was weakened by the fight. One tore my neck and shoulder.” He pulled down his shirt, though there wasn’t much to show. “One scar, Craig. I got a scar, and they’re both dead. I think that speaks to your ‘weakness,’ doesn’t it?”
Craig licked his lips, then shrugged. “You don’t look all that healed, boss. On the outside, sure, but I’ve noticed the little winces. You’re still recovering.”
Directly behind him, Ethan heard the sound of fingernails on paper. Sounded like Avani had got what Ethan had asked for. Good. He was about to need it.
“And what about the dereliction of duty?” Craig asked, his eyes back on Ethan’s. “Going to explain that one?”
Ethan shook his head. “Nope. You’ve got me on that one. I should have checked in, and I didn’t. I didn’t want to worry the pack, since I didn’t think anyone knew about the attack. Guess I was wrong. Incidentally, how did people find out?”
The ring started to murmur, and Ethan distinctly heard Craig’s name more than once. The man himself heard it, too, and his eyes darted about the ring as he tried to spot who was ratting him out.
“Craig told you all, hmm?” Ethan tapped the photos. “Funny, that. When I was fighting, there was nobody nearby, other than the wolves. So how did you know there was a fight, Craig?”
Craig didn’t answer, just licked his lips again and glanced away. Ethan held out his hand and Avani slipped a manila folder into it. Craig’s eyes fixed on it as Ethan slid out a few photos of his own.
“Funny thing about us shifters. Our size and colouration determine what our wolf forms look like. For instance, Avani here is average size and has dark hair. You, on the other hand, Craig, are lighter coloured, and a little larger than most.” He slid out a photo and dropped it to the floor. “These are the bodies of the wolves I killed. Thanks to Avani for taking the time to get some shots earlier today.” He tapped his toe against the images of the carcasses. “One larger than normal with brown hair, and one smaller with entirely black hair. Now, the first isn’t too uncommon, but an entirely black
wolf? That means a black shifter.”
When he slid the second photo out of the folder, he thought Craig would faint dead away. Ethan hadn’t seen the photo before, but he’d guessed at its contents. He dropped it to the floor amid the cries of anger in the audience.
The photo was a still taken from a security camera. It was of a local dive bar, and showed Craig sat in a booth talking to two men. One large, with long brown hair, and the other short, with almost ebony skin.
“Thing about modern bars, Craig, is that most have CCTV. And the thing about bar owners is we’ll often help each other out.” Ethan folded his arms over his chest. “Now, you wanna explain what you were doing talking to the two shifters that tried to kill me?”
“You faked that photo!” Craig snarled, shaking his head. “I’d never...”
“Bullshit, Craig,” Avani shouted from behind Ethan. “I talked to the bartenders at that shithole bar. They remembered you. Called you ‘that cocky arsehole.’ Said you’d been in three or four times a week. Talked to those two more than once, too.”
“Shut up, bitch!” The man clenched and released his fists. “It’s lies!”
Avani surged forward. “You want to try me, huh? Your pet wolf couldn’t take me, so what makes you think you can?”
Ethan turned to stop her with a hand. “Back up.”
She went to speak, then nodded and returned to her position. Ethan turned back to the ring of shifters, turning slowly to catch their eyes. “It’s down to you. Vote on who you side with, and I’ll follow the decision.”
Mae, the oldest member, stepped into the very centre. “All who agree with the accuser, Craig, raise your hands.”
Ethan wasn’t surprised to see that, despite the damning photograph and Avani’s words, several pack members raised their hands. Four, in all, and three enforcers. They looked less than pleased when they realised how few of them there was.
“And those who side with our leader, Ethan,” Mae continued.
The rest of the hands went up, meaning nobody had abstained. Ethan had guessed at the result, so the flood of relief didn’t surprise him.
“The votes are cast, the result plain,” Mae said. “Ethan, our leader is found in favour. Craig, you have two choices. You can withdraw your claim, and given the evidence, be removed from the pack, or you can choose to face Ethan in solo combat, as is the right of all who lose an accusation.”
