My father. The strongest, most even-tempered and noble man I’d ever known.
“What about honor?” Pierce demanded. “Aren’t you the one always talking about doing the right thing? Where the hell was that sense of honor when you were handing my son over to be slaughtered by a flock of dirty thunderbirds?”
Well, at least it’s out in the open now…Though that did nothing to break the tension in the room.
“Faythe did what she had to do to save an innocent tabby’s life,” Marc insisted, flushed with anger, but obviously trying to keep his temper in check. “She made a decision only a real leader could have faced, and—”
“Bite your tongue before I rip it out of your mouth!”
Pierce roared, and Marc bristled like a tiger on alert. I moved closer to him, and to my relief—and surprise—Jace stepped up on his other side, ready to defend his Pridemate if necessary, in spite of their personal rivalry. “I always gave you the benefit of the doubt,” Pierce spat. “I even defended you when they said a stray could never be as good an enforcer as a Prideborn cat. But then you helped her lead my boy to the slaughter! What the hell is wrong with the bunch of you? How could you hand over a member of your own species to be pecked to death by a bunch of giant buzzards?”
I wanted to argue. To defend myself and my actions. But we’d discussed it with my father and had agreed not to comment on what happened to Lance Pierce. Including the fact that I’d ordered Marc to execute Lance to spare him from being eaten alive by the birds. Malone was sure to declare that a murder, rather than a mercy.
“I guess Cal’s right about strays. You’re genetically inferior. You didn’t give a damn about my son because you’re not even the same species. And you!” Pierce turned his dark-eyed fury on me, and I almost took a step back, floored by the depth of his hatred. “You’re an abomination. Turning your nose up at your real duty and obligation to hand over one of your own in cold blood. I feel sorry for your father, saddled with such a self-righteous whore for a daughter. Refusing to give him any heirs, yet flaunting two lovers in front of the whole world. You truly have no shame.”
I reeled like I’d been slapped. My cheeks flamed. I could actually see bright red patches of skin at the bottom of my field of vision. And the double standard burned like hellflames. If there was an enforcer in the room who’d only been with one woman, then I was Garfield.
“Jerald.” Paul Blackwell didn’t even raise his voice, but every head in the room turned toward him, and Pierce went silent instantly. The senior Alpha and acting council chair stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning on a worn cane, looking every bit of his seventy-something years. “You’ll have a chance to air your grievances, but this is not it.”
Pierce nodded angrily, but refused to back down, so I had to step around him to accept the key ring Blackwell held out to me. “Tell your father we vote at seven sharp. If he has any preliminary business, he’ll need to present it before that.”
The slight arch in Blackwell’s brow was so subtle surely no one else noticed it. But I knew what that meant. If we were going to play the ace up our collective sleeve, we’d have to do it soon.
I nodded, clenching the key ring, then turned and marched out the front door with Marc and Jace on my heels.
“If this doesn’t work, we are so fucked,” Jace whispered, as we walked across the grass in a straight line. “They’d string us all up now, if they could. There’s no way any of those three are gonna switch sides.”
“It’ll work,” Marc insisted, for once forgetting to growl at his rival. “It has to.”
I could only nod, still stunned by Pierce’s speech. My hand strayed to the left side of my coat, beneath which I could barely feel a long, straight ridge. Two thunderbird feathers, stained with Lance Pierce’s blood. Evidence that Lance had killed the young bird, and that Malone had tried to frame us for the crime, simultaneously weakening our defenses and diverting the aftermath from his own Pride.
Those feathers were the key to our preemptive strike. We hadn’t come for the vote. We’d come to prevent it—by charging Calvin Malone with treason.
Chapter Four
“We have to tell my dad.” I shoved my freezing hands into my coat pockets and sighed. My breath hung on the air, a thin white cloud I walked through with my next step.
“That Jerald Pierce has lost his fucking mind?” Jace shrugged on my left, always a few inches closer to me than Marc would let himself be. “The sooner, the better. Telling Parker will be the hard part.”
“He’s already expecting it,” I said, thinking of his distraught drinking binge.
Malone’s cabin was in sight up ahead, and I wondered if any more of his psychotic henchmen were ready to rumble. After being called a whore in front of half of the Territorial Council, a good fight might be just what I needed to purge some seriously unhealthy resentment and aggression.
But everything looked quiet as we approached. Pity.
“But I wasn’t talking about Pierce.” Damn it, they were going to make me say it. “We have to tell my dad about us. This.” I stopped walking and pulled my hands from my pockets to make a gesture encompassing all three of us. “Whatever this is. Now.”
“There is no us,” Marc said, his voice low and heavy. He met my gaze frankly and left two feet of cold, empty space between his body and mine. “There’s you and me, or there’s you and him.” He waved one hand toward Jace, and I flinched.
“I know.” I sighed. And after Pierce’s public broadcast, I was hyperaware that if I didn’t make a decision soon, either Marc or Jace would take the choice out of my hands. “But my point is that Pierce just told Blackwell—and the whole world—exactly what’s going on.” And that came as a surprise, because we’d fully expected our enemies to keep the secret until revealing it would do us the most damage. Which should have given us time to break the news first. “And if my dad finds out from anyone other than us—other than me—well…I can’t do that to him.”
Dealing with my catastrophic love life was the last thing he needed at the moment, but learning about it in front of the entire council would be much, much worse.
“So we’ll tell him.” Jace shrugged again. He’d only agreed to keep our relationship quiet out of respect for Marc. Marc was the one really suffering, and that would only get worse once everyone knew he’d been cuckolded.
“No, I’ll tell him.” I couldn’t drag Marc in front of my father and announce that I’d cheated on him. And couldn’t let Jace see how strongly my father disapproved of him at my side. That wouldn’t be fair to either of them. I would take the fallout alone. “I just need you guys to keep everyone else out of the way for a few minutes so I can tell him in private.”
Marc looked like he wanted to throw up. I reached out for him, but he backed away. “You want me to entertain our allies so you can tell your dad you’re not sure you want me anymore?” Pain swam in his golden brown eyes, and when I couldn’t figure out what to say to make it better, he shook his head slowly and took off across the cold dead grass toward our cabin.
I ached to go after him, but he wanted to be alone, and I understood why.
“He’ll be okay.” Jace tried to pull me close, but I stepped out of his reach, apologizing with my eyes. If I couldn’t touch Marc, I couldn’t touch him, even for innocent comfort. Both because that wouldn’t be fair to Marc, and because where comfort was concerned, there didn’t seem to be much innocence left between me and Jace.
“I’m not sure any of us will be,” I whispered, as we passed Malone’s lodgings.
The rental van was parked in front of our cabin, with Umberto Di Carlo and my father in the front seats. As we approached, the sliding door opened and Mateo Di Carlo got out to give me a hug, while two of his fellow enforcers nodded in greeting.