No Remorse

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No Remorse Page 17

by MaryLynn Bast


  She had never seen a challenge, but knew that it could be very bloody and stared, worried for Marcello.

  Amber, the woman, Blake reminded her gently as he read her mind. At his insistent reminder, she immediately dissolved again and made her way silently into the house.

  There was a young werewolf guarding the human woman, resting with his arms crossed over his chest, one leg tossed carelessly over the other. Like the old man, the young pup appeared to not be expecting any trouble. She was puzzled at the lack of security. Clearly, the old man did not have a handle on how to protect its pack from being invaded. Amber silently slipped behind his still form and enveloped him.

  Startled, he jumped when his vision blurred and everything suddenly went black. He could see nothing, hear nothing. Amber allowed her molecules to invade his mind. The young wolf slumped against the chair into unconsciousness. Amber leaned him forward, resting his head on the table to keep him from falling out of the chair.

  The woman was facing the doorway and didn’t see Amber quickly re-materialize behind the comatose wolf. Tapping her fingers lightly on the table to get the woman’s attention, Amber watched the door anxiously. The woman whipped her head around at the slight noise and Amber motioned for her to follow. The woman looked from the man’s head on the table, at Amber, then over her shoulder. Without hesitation, the woman jumped from her chair and ran towards Amber.

  Adam met them at the back door. Take her quickly to her husband, Amber ordered before turning and running back towards the front yard. She heard the motors off in the distance that raced towards the house.

  Adam took the woman by the arm and hurried her deeper into the woods, where two men waited on ATV’S. Helping the woman onto the back, Adam instructed her to hold on to Jonathan and not let go no matter what. Once they took off and were out of site, Adam turned and hurried as fast as his cracked ribs allowed, towards the old farmhouse, to where the real action was about to begin.

  Everyone in the front yard heard the sounds of the four wheelers engines starting off in the distance, and as they sped off into the night, but paid them no heed. They watched anxiously for the long awaited fight between the JD Bloodsworth and Marcello.

  Marcello stood with his legs slightly apart, looking relaxed, but ready for whatever the old man planned to do. JD stood on the porch with the gun was aimed towards Marcello’s chest rather than at Blake.

  “You would really choose that mutt pack over your own flesh and blood?” Bloodsworth demanded, glaring at Marcello.

  “Any day,” Marcello responded immediately. “The world has changed. There are ways for us to cope with our changes without involving humans. They are not cattle and should not be slaughtered as such. To kidnap a human woman and her child is completely unacceptable. I expected more, even from you.”

  “Don't talk down to me boy!” He lifted the rifle higher.

  Blake was watching the trigger finger on the gun and knew that JD was reluctant to shoot Marcello. The old man couldn’t back down though, Marcello had called him out. If he backed down now, he may as well turn tail and run. Blake watched Bloodsworth’s finger begin moving from the side of the gun where he had placed it. The finger was sliding towards the trigger.

  Before anyone realized what was happening, Blake was in motion. He leaped, and in one bound landed on the porch that was a good six feet off the ground. Landing silently beside the old man, he knocked the gun up and away as his finger pulled the trigger. The bullet went wide, landing somewhere in the trees beyond the yard.

  Bloodsworth lost his grip on the rifle and it flew off the porch when Blake shoved him away. JD was fast though, quickly regaining his balance, turning on Blake. His eyes were swirling with unreleased frustration while he stood snarling at Blake.

  “You are not allowed to be a part of this!” JD spat out in anger, sidestepping towards the edge of the porch while glaring at Blake.

  Blake shifted with him, but made sure to keep the entire Bloodsworth pack in his view as they gathered just outside the front door.

  “The rules are only convenient when it suits you, Bloodsworth. I am evening the odds. You don't bring a gun to a wolf fight,” Blake told him, standing his ground.

  The old man began swearing and jumped, landing hard in a crouching position on the ground a few feet in front of Marcello.

  Amber rounded the corner in time to see the old man lunge at Marcello, snarling, with his canines snapping. She watched Blake's large frame land lightly on the ground and made his way cautiously to where she stood. He kept an eye on the men on the porch; they appeared to be respecting pack law, staying on the porch and not getting involved.

  Is the woman safe? Blake asked her, worriedly watching his friend and pack mate.

  Yes, she’s safe, on the four wheelers heading back to Zach now. She said absently; too busy watching the men circling each other in the yard. Blake, is this a good idea? She was concerned for Marcello.

  The thought that she was worried made him happy, she cared for the member of their pack, yet it also raised his wolf's head in a bit of jealousy. He pushed for his wolf to be quiet and continued communicating with her.

  He made the challenge. If he doesn’t go through with this, he will be dishonored.

  Movement in the front yard drew their attention and they remained quiet, watching what was happening in front of them.

  The old man was fast, darting repeatedly at Marcello, his lighter frame allowing him to move swiftly. But he was not quick enough when throwing punches, Marcello blocked each blow, knocking it aside as if swatting at a nagging fly, side stepping the lunges.

  Amber was amazed at how Marcello moved, his hulking frame twisting and turning his body, like he was a ninety-pound ballerina instead of two hundred fifty pounds of rock solid muscles.

  Amber had seen men fighting, but had never watched a male werewolf fighting another. If she hadn’t had the keen werewolf's vision, she would have not been able to watch the fight, the men moved in almost a blur of motion.

  The fight was not over quickly. The old man had more stamina than Marcello had given him credit for. So he continued to avoid the blows that his stepfather kept throwing at him. Never once did Marcello strike, only blocking and moving out of the way.

  Why's he not fighting back? Amber frowned, turning to Blake.

  He doesn't want to hurt the bastard. Wearing him down, Blake mumbled in response. His wolf wanted him to take Bloodsworth out and have it be over with, but he didn’t allow his wolf to emerge.

  I thought this was a fight to the death? Amber continued to ask questions when nothing was really happening. Since she had never been part of a pack like this, she didn't know the rules of engagement. .

  In the past, this would have been true. But, like Marcello said, the world has changed and there are better ways of handling things. Unless Bloodsworth forces him to, Marcello won't kill him.

  Marcello sidestepped another punch that was aimed at his face. He sensed the old man weakening from his continued, but failed efforts. Using his own momentum against him, Marcello pushed his arm away, twisted and spun the man around and grabbed him from behind in a bear hug. Marcello towered over Bloodsworth by a good nine inches. Bloodsworth flailed like a fish out of water while Marcello's massive arms squeezed him enough to keep from escaping.

  “I could break you in half if I wanted to, old man,” Marcello told him softly, but in a deadly voice. “Don't force me to kill you.”

  Bloodsworth was humiliated, out of breath and red faced, but he stopped struggling. Even though he was defeated and still locked in Marcello's arms, he continued ranting.

  “You may be strong as an ox, but you are weak in mind, boy!” He snarled between clenched teeth, taunting Marcello.

  “I'm not the own who is weak,” Marcello knew he shouldn't have responded to the insult, but did anyway. “Strength comes with being able to change. You are not capable of seeing the world as it has evolved. I will not kill you unless you force me to. But you are to
gather your belongings and leave. If you don't, I will hunt you down.” Marcello loosened his arms, but did not quite let go, in anticipation of Bloodsworth continuing to fight.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  This property is mine. I earned it marrying that sorry bitch you call a mother and raising your sorry ass,” Bloodsworth exclaimed rudely.

  Marcello was finally pissed. Insult him all you want, but leave his mother out of it. “Never read the will did you?” Marcello snarled, enjoying the startled look on Bloodsworth's face. “That's right; you were too stupid to learn to read! The land, the house and all the money my mother saved will never be touched by your filthy hands. My mother had her will revised when I left for Iraq, and was very specific. Remember that paper you put your x on when you joined my mother?”

  At Bloodsworth's frown, Marcello continued, “You signed a pre-nup. My mother’s father insisted on it, listing everything you brought into the bond. Even though my grandfather didn’t agree with it, she generously added the things she bought you throughout the years. Not out of respect, but out of guilt for never loving you. You and your sons have your belongings.”

  Marcello let that sink in for a few seconds, looking at his younger brother standing on the porch, then over to his older stepbrothers who were staring at him in disbelief. There had never been any love lost for his stepbrothers; they weren't as bad as their father, but they had no backbone. They should have been working with him, trying to straighten things out. Instead they supported their father’s drunken, out of control behavior.

  “I let things get out of hand by allowing you attempt to run this place like it belonged to you. In less than five years, you have taken a thriving over two hundred plus members pack and turned it into the least respected in the area. How many of you are left? Fifteen, maybe twenty scattered throughout the states?” Marcello asked in disgust.

  The crowd was surprised to hear Marcello continue talking. Normally, saying very few words, he was more a man of action. But he continued. He had a point to get across.

  “When my mother married you and blended packs, she never imagined this would happen. My mother’s father would be ashamed if he were alive to see what you have done. I'm happy to have never taken the Bloodsworth last name.”

  The night was deathly quiet. Even the creatures of the forest appeared to wait with baited breath to see how Bloodsworth would respond.

  Bloodsworth was sullen, but remained still. He had no response to the bomb that had been dropped on him. He had never read the will, not expecting this to happen! He was dumbfounded.

  Sensing his defeat, Marcello allowed the old man’s feet to slowly reach the ground. Releasing Bloodsworth, he cautiously stepped away. The old man held himself stiff, appearing to be accepting his fate.

  Bloodsworth shot a loathing glance at Blake, noticing Amber for the first time. She was standing staring wide-eyed at the proceedings, only a few feet away.

  The old man stopped and stared at her a moment before spitting on the ground. Sniffing the air, his face grew still, his eyes wandering up and down Amber's form, committing her image to memory.

  This was the female wolf the Council had contacted him about. The old man opened his thoughts to the men on the porch. Even though he was no longer their leader, he still had the connection to them. They had a right to know who the whore was. At the moment, the men were all in turmoil. With all their thoughts bouncing around in his head, it was hard to tell where their loyalties laid, but he let them see who she was. Without their assistance, he would take care of the woman in his own way.

  With the connection still wide open to their fallen leader, the men stood quietly on the porch, not sure what they should do. Marcello was included in the connection, since he had once been an active part of the pack. He heard the old man broadcast Amber's name and the reason why the Council sought her.

  Marcello closed his eyes for a brief moment in frustration at the old man's last attempt. He had to stop this now. The men continued to watch in silence, Bloodsworth took a tentative step towards the house, but stopped dead in his tracks when Marcello spoke next.

  “Blake Edwards, as new leader of the pack, I continue to swear allegiance to you and yours, lead us as you may.” By continuing to swear allegiance to Blake, his pack would grow stronger, and his members would return under Blake's strong leadership. Marcello knew he could lead his pack, but honestly, didn't want to. The main reason he had allowed Bloodsworth to take over when his grandfather and mother had been killed in the car wreck five years earlier was because he was not ready for the responsibility of the pack. He had a lot more to learn and felt that he could serve his country, gain more skills than the old man had provided. So he had joined the Marines as soon as they would have him. He had enjoyed traveling the world and they had taught him more than anyone would ever know.

  JD took Marcello's words as the final, ultimate betrayal to him and his blood. He wanted to lash out at the real person who was tearing his family apart, who had encouraged Marcello to leave his pack and cost Bloodsworth his home, money and his family. He wanted to hurt Blake like he had hurt him. He rushed, not at Marcello or Blake, but at Amber. Amber was a woman, an easy target and Blake's new mate. If he killed her, it would be sweet revenge and the Council would get the woman's body like they had requested. In an instant, Bloodsworth was in front of Amber with knife in hand, plunging towards her heart.

  The old man’s cry of revenge turned to frustration and anger when the knife found purchase on nothing but air. All he saw was Blake's face. What he didn't see was the claw that appeared out of nowhere and swiped angry scratches down his face and across his chest causing his blood to run freely.

  Bloodsworth stumbled back, grabbing his face in disbelief at Blake’s speed and sharp claws. Clutching the knife in one hand, the old man backed away, holding it out in front, to defend himself. “This is not over, not like this.” His anger renewed, he ranted like a madman. When he couldn't get Amber, he turned rushing towards Marcello, who was within his reach now. Marcello had stepped forward to assist, but had pulled up short when Blake reacted. Only his right hand had shifted. Amber reappeared a couple feet away and rushed at Blake. The men on the porch were rooted to the spot in shock and indecision.

  JD saw this as his final chance and turned as Marcello continued towards him with an angry cry. Bloodsworth lunged. Again, Marcello sidestepped Bloodsworth’s feeble advances, blocking the hand swinging the knife that aimed for his chest now instead of at Amber. Marcello' big hands were wrapped around the enraged man’s wrist and he twisted. The knife fell silently to the ground as Marcello stepped into his body, flipped Bloodsworth – the man he had once, long ago loved as a father – around and in one swift movement; he snapped his neck like it was a twig.

  Amber’s mouth gaped as she stood beside Blake. Tears sprang instantly to her eyes when she was bombarded with the overwhelming emotions from Marcello. Amber's hand covered her mouth to keep herself from letting a sob escape when Marcello gently allowed the limp body to slide to the ground. Amber's throat was tight, fighting tears when Marcello closed the old man's blank staring eyes. Marcello knelt over the body and lowered his head in grief, squeezing his own eyes tightly to keep the tears from flowing. He hated that it had to come to this.

  Blake still fought the internal battle to keep his wolf at bay. He had swiftly changed his hand and defended his mate. With his hand still that of his wolf's paw, Blake pulled Amber into his arms and held her tightly.

  Amber could feel his skin crawling, Blake's fur fought to emerge. She could hear his teeth grinding together where he clenched his jaws tightly. The clawed hand rested lightly on her back, Amber buried her face in Blake’s muscular chest. She had seen death, but nothing like this. If this is how it is to be part of the pack? Could she really do this?

  Baby, this is how it happens sometimes. Marcello tried to let Bloodsworth leave peacefully, but the old man attacked you instead. By doing this, he disrespected Marcello and you. Bl
oodsworth would continue to come after you if he had let him leave.

  Couldn't Marcello have waited to swear allegiance to you? If he had waited, we could have dealt with Bloodsworth. Amber was devastated because she knew that Marcello had killed his stepfather to protect her.

  Amber, the choice was his to make. Blake had intentionally blocked her from hearing the communications Marcello had allowed him to hear by opening the channel during the old man’s tirade to his pack. He wasn’t sure how she would have reacted if she had heard how JD planned to turn her over to the Council. He would have stopped at nothing to get his hands on her. If Marc had waited, it would have been like he was hiding behind me as the leader of our pack. That would mean that his pack members are inferior to ours.

  Blake looked at Marcello who lowered his head to him. Blake understood the sacrifice Marcello had just made.

  Marcello stood and turned towards his pack members, who continued to stand on the porch. “You have a choice now. You can either stay in the pack and swear your allegiance, or you can go,” Marcello told them, and then he turned to face Blake and Amber, his back to the remaining pack members.

  “You are my brother, I go where you go,” Amber heard Marcello's birth brother says.

  Collectively the men looked at each other and considered their options. They spoke among themselves, deliberating on how Blake’s arm had changed, marveling at the idea that the legends that were told to all werewolf children as bedtime stories were true. That there was a grand master wolf that ruled over all packs. They wondered if this was an omen for them to join Blake’s pack and become part of those legends.

  Nodding in agreement, another of the men responded and moved forward. One by one the men repeated the words, swearing their allegiance to their new pack leader. One by one they walked down the steps and stood slightly behind Marcello, lowering their head to Blake. All but two of the men moved down into the yard.

 

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