Blood of the Pride

by Sheryl Nantus

  “Langley?” Jess failed to hide the surprise in her voice. Or she didn’t care. “Is that who this is all about?”

  “Yes and no.” I looked at my watch. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at the hospital with Davis. We brought him here after the accident. You know how that farm machinery is.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Good cover story. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Bran slid a plate of buttered toast across the island toward me, one eyebrow raised.

  “And don’t bring the human,” Jess snarled. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.”

  “What?” My blood pressure rose. “What the hell business is it of yours if I’m sleeping with a human? You practically disowned me years ago and only called me in to make sure no one else found out about your precious secret. Now you’re trying to run my life again? I don’t think so!” I slammed the phone down then picked it up again and tossed it across the room. It bounced three times, startling Jazz into turning around and finding a more comfortable spot on the leather couch.

  “Why do I just feel like I’ve started dating the top cheerleader and I’m the geek working in the computer lab?” Bran placed a huge teapot on the table and slipped a tea towel under it. I stared at the monstrosity, the vibrant violets clashing with yellow pansies and something swirling off the handle that had to qualify it for Best of Show in some Antique Showcase somewhere. Bran laughed at my response. “My grandmother’s, before you say anything. Don’t bring it out too often. Don’t usually need more than a single cup.” He placed two mugs down beside it and nodded toward the phone, still lying on the other side of the room. “So…”

  “Davis is alive and wanting to talk to me.” I picked up one of the pieces of toast and munched on it, my appetite returning with a rush. “Got any jam?”

  “Grape. In a squeeze bottle.” Bran set the purple plastic container before me. He sat on a stool and faced me as he poured out the tea. “So…”

  “And Jess doesn’t like me being with you. Go figure.” I spread the jam across the bread with a finger and then popped the jelly-covered digit into my mouth despite Bran’s raised eyebrow.

  “I do have knives, you know. Butter knives. Made for spreading such things as jam. And peanut butter.” He didn’t move. “She can’t call you out or kill you or anything like that, right?”

  I paused, seeing my confusion mirrored in his face. “Technically…I’m not sure.” I added a dash of milk to the tea from the small carton sitting on the table. “See, it’s not really verboten to be involved with a regular human. Like I said, you can marry them but it’s a strain on the Felis.”

  “So…better to date them and keep a secret than go the whole way and let the secret out?”

  “More or less.” There was a spot of jam on my knuckle, prompting me to lick it off. “Let’s just say that you’ve got to be darned serious before you get hauled to the farm and introduced to the family.”

  “So how serious are we, then?” He stared at me, putting his mug to his mouth.

  The blunt question caught me with my tongue half out of my mouth. Pulling it back into a suddenly dry crevasse I glanced down. “I’m not sure.”

  It was the honest truth. I’d had my share of one-night stands but there had been only one man who had ever been worth telling my secret to and he was standing in front of me.

  Bran held up his hands. “I’m sorry. This isn’t the right time to start this conversation.” He rolled the white ceramic mug around on its edge. “I tend to jump ahead of myself.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” I scrambled for something to defuse the situation before I screwed it up even more. “We better get to the hospital.” I swallowed the rest of the toast, drinking my hot tea at breakneck speed with my eyes closed. I didn’t want to see Bran’s face.

  “You feel up to driving?” I opened my eyes to see him smiling at me. “Or do you want me to take it?”

  “I’ll be fine.” The relief in my voice was probably screaming out between the words. “Let’s just go and see what he wants.” I wagged a finger at Jazz. “You stay here and guard the place. You didn’t do such a good job on the last one, you know.”

  She yawned, displaying her yellowed teeth. I took that as an affirmative.

  There was an accident on Queen Street, forcing us down to King Street for the trip to St. Joseph’s. It actually wasn’t that far from my original house, no more than a half-hour or so, but considering my current address happened to be nowhere, it was far enough.

  I smelled Jess before I saw her, the tall woman standing at the vending machines in the lobby. She turned toward me, her scarlet scar getting louder as she spotted Brandon beside me. Her jaw tensed when I approached. I might have saved Davis’s life but I had tweaked her honor.

  “Where’s Davis?” I moved inside her personal space, letting her know I wasn’t going to be intimidated.

  “He’s just recovering from some surgery.” The silver-haired woman reached down to pluck a paper cup of coffee from the small plastic holder. “Seems his face is pretty scratched up. Going to need a few more operations before he gets handsome again.” She sipped the hot coffee, her expression stoic.

  “Strange how that happens, eh?” Brandon moved to stand beside me, a wry smile on his face. “Don’t think we’ve been properly introduced yet.” He offered his right hand. “Brandon Hanover.”

  The challenge was evident. Alpha against alpha—the game never changed. Part of me wanted to relish Jess’s discomfort at being challenged by a stranger and part of me cringed at the thought of what Jess could do to Brandon. The hormones rolled out from both in impressive waves as Jess gripped the offered hand, her eyes locked with Bran’s.

  I stood back and let them have at it. Better now in a public place than on the farm or worse, a back alley somewhere. If Bran could hold his own, it’d make things a whole lot easier. At least medical help was on hand.

  A full two minutes later the lock was broken, both of them releasing their death hold at the same time. Jess nodded. “Good enough. Now let’s go see Davis.”

  I glanced at Bran who beamed as if he’d won the lottery. I wasn’t sure if he’d learned this on the streets or in some book somewhere, but he had managed to maneuver that minefield better than some kits. He fell back exactly a full step behind Jess, acknowledging her authority as if the damned human had been fully briefed on how to deal with alphas.

  There was another man outside the room, obviously one of the family. Whether he was there to make sure Davis stayed put or to make sure no one else attacked him, I wasn’t sure. The blond nodded at Jess as we walked by him, only raising an eyebrow at Bran and me. Good training.

  The hospital room was the typical antiseptic haven with a single bed set by the window, the bars on the windows strategically placed to not make it look as if the staff was afraid of the patient jumping out. There were no flowers, nothing to show that anyone occupied this room other than the man lying in the bed.

  Davis looked like the classic Claude Raines version of the Invisible Man, bandages wrapped around his head so tightly I wondered if he could even hear.

  “Rebecca.” The muffled voice came out from between lips hidden under layers. “Thanks for coming.”

  My first instinct was to put my hand out toward his. He raised his right hand and gripped mine, a weak, limp effort. I sat on the edge of the bed. “No problem.” My gaze stayed fixed on his, not willing to show my fear at his appearance. He could probably scent it on me but I wasn’t going to give it away.

  “I’ll be outside.” Jess looked from me to Brandon to Davis. “We’ll talk later.” She strode outside without looking back.

  Bran swallowed loudly, leaning against the wall with arms crossed. I tried to ignore him and focused on the man in front of me.

  “I’m glad you’re alive.” It was true, even if I despised him for what he had done. I had never been so mad to want someone dead.

  “Thanks to you.” His eyes were sad and dark. “I’m an
idiot.”

  “That’s for sure,” Bran mumbled. He put his hands up before I could respond. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just going to stand here and look pretty.”

  Davis looked at Bran then back at me. “He’s right. I put my own wishes ahead of the good of the Pride and that was wrong.”

  “You killed Ruth.” I tried to keep the hatred out of my voice. I probably failed. “You killed her when all she was trying to do is help me solve a case you asked me to work on.”

  Davis reached up with one covered finger and scratched the tip of his nose or where it would be under the bandages. “You know how many surgeries I’m going to have to undergo before I can even show my face in public?”

  “More than ten?” I couldn’t help sounding cheerful. “You know how long it’s going to take to put my place back together after you ripped it apart?” It was a shot in the dark.

  His head dipped. “Don’t make this harder than it is, please. You may have saved my life, but it’s not really going to be worth living at this rate.”

  I shifted my legs. “Why did you get so upset about Ruth sending me the files? What do you have to do with Langley?”

  His eyes registered surprise, enough to bring Bran off the wall. “Frank? What do you know about Frank?” Davis grabbed my wrist. “What do you know?”

  “I know that somehow he’s related to the Felis who killed Janey. And who trashed my house.” I didn’t pull away despite Bran’s nervous eyebrow twitches. “Tell me what you know.” I pulled my fingers into fists. “You owe me a life-debt.”

  “That I do.” He released my wrist and sighed as he fell back onto the pile of hospital-issue pillows at his back. “First, I have to tell you that I never thought it would come to this. I thought you’d just check into things, give us a fat bill and be done with it.” His eyes flashed to Brandon. “I thought you were…less than capable in this area.”

  “You thought I was more of a misfit.” I leaned forward. “That’s it, isn’t it? While Jess had confidence in me you figured that I was too degraded as a Felis and too crappy as an investigator to hunt this guy down.” My face grew hot. “Yet here I am, here you are and one of us isn’t going to be worried about dressing up for Halloween. Two kids are without their mother and a husband is mourning his wife and wondering what she did to deserve being attacked in a dark alley.” My tone went low and dark. “And don’t think that I’m that helpless.” I lifted my hands and shoved my knuckles toward him, displaying the new scars. “Think I could undo all that hard work?” I flexed my fingers. “Think anyone would mind?” My tongue flicked out to wet my lips, my heart pounding faster. “Think they’d be able to stop me? Think they’d try?”

  Bran’s hand was on my shoulder. “Reb.” The single word brought me back from the edge of my rage. I slid off the bed, standing at the foot.

  “Tell me what connection you have to Frank Langley and Frank Langley to the killer.” I jerked my thumb at the door. “Or I’ll let Jess get it out of you.”

  A shudder ran through him at the mention of Jess’s name. Obviously the beating had been worse than I had thought. “Okay, okay.” He put up both hands. “Just put in a good word for me with Jess.”

  “I’m not going to promise anything. I saved your life. Don’t make me regret it.” After a few minutes of silence, I rapped the footboard, rattling the bed. “The clock is ticking.”

  He took a deep breath, glancing at the door. “Frank and I were crib brothers.” Davis looked at Bran. “You probably don’t understand that, but it’s like being raised with a lot of brothers and sisters. You feel a sort of bloodship with them, something you just don’t grow out of.” A sharp cough burst out of the bandages. “On our first hunt we tracked a buck. Damned thing turned out to be a twelve-pointer, charged at us. I froze, Frank pushed me to one side and saved my life.” His fingers rose and fell on the crisp white sheet. “We took it down but I owed him.” He shook his head. “You never forget friends and family.”

  I nodded. “I had that. Had being the operative word. Keep talking.”

  “When Jess told me about your request I knew that Frank had the streak down his face—it’s been there as long as I’ve known him. But he’s too old to have been the guy who attacked you. I called him and asked what was going on. I mean, there’s only so many Felis out there with that particular marking scheme.”

  “No kidding.” I caught Bran’s questioning look. “It’s not a common trait. We all have different markings. It’s like fingerprints.”

  “Exactly. There were three men on that list but I just felt that Frank had something to do with it. Call it a hunch or something.”

  “Animal instinct?” Bran flinched as we both glared at him. At least I did, I wasn’t sure if Davis did.

  “I knew it wasn’t Frank.” The bandaged man let out a sigh. “When Jess told me that we were giving you the list I was pissed.”

  “Enough to kill Ruth?” I said.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I never wanted to kill her. I just wanted to remind her of her loyalty to the family first.”

  “You called Frank. Told him about the investigation, about Ruth giving me the files.”

  Davis nodded. “He thanked me and said he’d appreciate anything I could do to keep it quiet. Said he didn’t need anyone butting in on his business.”

  I covered my eyes with the palms of both hands and couldn’t respond for a minute. “His ‘business’? We’re talking about the death of a woman.”

  “He didn’t know about the barn. I didn’t tell him anything about that. You can’t hold that against him.” A whine crept into his voice.

  “Okay. Let’s leave that for a second.” I took a deep breath, quelling my rage. “What business?”

  Davis picked at a loose thread on the blanket. “I’m not sure.”

  “Look, you bastard.” I leaned in with both hands on each side of his bandaged head and grabbed where I thought his ears would be. The squeal told me I was right. “You spill what you have or I start taking those bandages off.” I showed him my hands again. “Thread by thread.”

  He lowered his voice to a whisper, so low that I could barely catch it. “He said that it was his son. I don’t know more than that.”

  “But he doesn’t have any children with his current wife.” I glanced at Bran, then back. “He’s got a mistress? Someone in the Pride he’s been nailing on the side?”

  Davis dropped his head. “You’ll have to ask him, I didn’t get all the details.”

  “But you got enough to risk your standing for him.” I moved away from the bed. “I hope he appreciates it.”

  “Reb,” Davis called me back as I opened the door, “it’s family. You know how that works.”

  I swallowed back the foul taste in my throat. “Yes, I know how that works.”

  Bran followed me out into the hallway. I waved Jess over with a nod of my head, the blond guard moving farther down the corridor, almost out of earshot.

  “I don’t get it.” I shook my head, crossing my arms in front of me. “Davis is saying that Frank’s got some sort of son, someone’s who’s off the radar. That’s who we’re looking for.”

  “It can’t be.” Jess’s jaw clenched, sending a ripple along the scar. “There’s no children that are unaccounted for. Not one.”

  “Are you sure?” Bran asked.

  Jess stared at him.

  Bran continued. “Listen, I get the idea that you control all the information about the group and all that. But what if someone gets knocked up and doesn’t tell you who the father is?”

  “Never happen.” Jess shook her head. “You don’t know anything about us. Keeping a secret like that would be impossible.” She glanced at the floor for a second as if working to find the right words. “We don’t get upset about unmarried women having children. All we ask is that they register them so we keep the bloodlines straight. There’s no shame—just an obligation to do right by the kit by keeping the records straight, which means putting down a father.”<
br />
  She looked at me. “I’ve never see Frank Langley registered as a father for any kits. Ever. And every record comes across my desk at some point.”

  It felt like I had sand behind my eyes, grinding my thoughts to bits. “You’ll have to contact the other Prides, see if he’s in their records.”

  “Gone you one better.” Jess smiled, a predatory grin. “I’ve sent someone to retrieve Frank and Kelly Langley from the farm. They came down for Ruth’s funeral. They should be here in a matter of hours.” Her eyes went to Brandon’s, locking steel on steel. “We’ll figure this out.”

  I rubbed my forehead with my right hand. “This still isn’t making sense. Who would want to kill Janey Winters? Why? What does she have to do with Frank Langley?” A low throbbing began behind my left eye. “This isn’t connecting.”

  The youngster down the hall shuffled his feet, tucking both hands behind his back. I looked at the closed door. “He seems sorry enough.”

  “Don’t make what he did right,” Jess said.

  “I didn’t say that.” I tapped the tip of my nose with one finger. “But I can tell you that it had to be something pretty close to Davis’s heart to have him threaten and assault Ruth. You don’t just go tossing your weight around that woman.” I caught myself thinking and speaking in the present tense, as if she were still alive. My chest ached with the truth.

  “True.” Jess nodded.

  “Why did you wait until the funeral to call him out?” I kept talking before my nerve gave out. “You could have done this upstairs, kept it internal.”

  Jess looked at the closed door. “I wanted him to have to answer in front of the whole Pride, not just in a private meeting.”

  “Public humiliation.” I felt the tension twist down my spine. “I know how important that is to you.”

  Jess didn’t flinch. “You were tougher than he was.”

  I pushed the flash of anger away before it could consume me. “What made him think he could pull this off?”

  “Hubris. Humans don’t have a monopoly on pride,” Jess snapped. “Damned fool figured being on the Board means you can fix everything. It don’t.”