“Let’s not waste time arguing about this, Faythe.” With that, she marched into the kitchen, shouting for Ryan. I went after her and found her talking to him by the tiled bar. “Go with them,” she was saying. “You’re the only one other than Marc who’s familiar with the area. Keep them out of sight and keep them safe, until you get to Marc’s.”
“Mom, he can’t—”
“Yes. He can.” She frowned at me with one hand on Ryan’s arm. “He’s learned from his mistakes, Faythe. He won’t let me down.”
“And I have a car…” he offered, meeting my gaze boldly. “It’ll be a tight fit, but this way you don’t have to take Dodd out of the fight. And you might need him.”
I had less than a second to consider. Then I grabbed Ryan by the throat and threw him against the wall while he gagged. Kaci gasped from the dining room doorway, backpack over one shoulder, and Manx put her free arm around the young tabby. I focused on my brother, on the fear floating behind his eyes. “If they don’t all make it to Marc’s house without a single scratch, I will personally rip out your throat. Understand?”
Ryan nodded, as best he could with my hand around his neck.
I let him go, and he sucked in a deep breath. “Go. Now.” Ryan headed for the back door, herding Kaci ahead of him. Manx followed with Des in her arms. Owen fell into step beside her and slid the diaper bag over her shoulder, then kissed her quickly on the cheek. A moment later, they were gone, leaving a confused, terrified Holly standing next to her husband.
“I’ll call when I can,” I told Michael, as he tugged his wife toward the back door.
He nodded.
“What’s going on?” Holly demanded. She tried to stop, but Michael only pulled harder, more concerned with getting her to safety than with explaining the details. “Who’s in those cars? Are you in the mob? Oh, shit. You’re a mafia lawyer. I should have known! All the late-night emergencies and secrets… Let go of me!”
Michael pulled her out the door, and when it slammed behind them, I turned to face everyone else. My men. And my mother.
There weren’t enough of us. Marc, Jace, Vic, Parker, Owen, Brian, me, Dr. Carver, and my mom. Malone had a car full of toms for every able body we had, and even if we counted my mother, we were screwed. How the hell had they known about the funeral? And what the hell was I thinking, asking our allies to stay away? At least if they’d come, we’d be better defended.
Or not. If we’d had more men, Malone would no doubt have brought more to the party. His resources were endless, compared to ours.
Half a minute after the back door slammed shut behind Michael and Holly, the first car rolled to a stop in front of the house. Seven others followed in quick succession, and I was not surprised to see Malone in the front passenger seat of the first car.
I turned to face my men, dragging in a deep breath that tasted like fear and fury—but mostly fury. “We don’t stand a chance in open battle. Not yet. Not like this.” Suddenly I felt very vulnerable in my skirt and heels. “If Malone’s brought a challenger, I’ll fight him.”
“Faythe…” Marc interrupted, as the first car door slammed shut at my back.
My pulse raced, and my eyes ached as a partial Shift began, unbidden, brought on by stress and bloodlust. “No. I fight for myself.”“I agree with Marc,” Jace said, and neither of us could have looked more surprised. “Let one of us fight. That’s what your father would want.”
“That’s what he would want for his daughter, if he were still here. Still Alpha. But it’s not what he’d want for himself. And I’m the Alpha now. I can’t afford to let someone else fight my battles. Especially this first one.”
Jace frowned and Marc scowled, but neither argued.
“Besides, I can handle myself against Alex Malone. Even in a skirt.”
“How do you know it’s Alex?” Jace asked, and I pointed out the sidelight, through which we could now see all four occupants of the first car: Malone, Colin Dean, one of Parker’s brothers, whose name escaped me at the moment, and Alex Malone.
“Oh, shit,” Parker whispered, and he didn’t even seem to notice that he’d cussed in front of the new Alpha. I didn’t have to ask what was wrong—emerging from the second car as we watched was Jerald Pierce.
“It’ll be okay, Parker,” I insisted. “One way or another. Everybody ready?”
They all nodded silently, and my mother smoothed down her hair, readying her battle face. I’d never seen her look more fierce, when only moments ago she’d been ready to fall apart. No wonder my father had fallen so hard for her. How could he not?
I opened the door and stepped onto the porch, forcing my pulse to stop tripping over itself. Marc and Jace took up positions on either side of me, and the others fanned out around us, except for my mother, who stood firm to one side of the steps in front of the porch railing. It was clearer in that moment than ever before where most of my pride and obduracy had come from.
“Ms. Sanders…” Malone crossed his arms over a button-down shirt with both sleeves rolled up, in spite of the cold. Maybe hotheaded was a more accurate description of him than we’d ever really guessed.
The line of cars stretched out to his right, around the circle driveway and trailing onto the long gravel drive itself. Men were getting out, slamming doors, and I only recognized about half of them.
I crossed my arms over my chest, staring down at him from the porch. “You said we’d have until Saturday.”
“No, I said you’d have until you buried your father, and there’s a patch of freshly overturned earth beneath that apple tree—” he pointed toward where my father now lay alongside Ethan for all of eternity “—that says that mission’s been accomplished. So…have you come up with a suitable Alpha for your Pride?”
“I am Alpha of the south-central Pride. That was my father’s dying wish, and I will honor it.”
“Until your last breath, no doubt,” Malone mumbled, barely moving his lips as he stepped toward the porch, stopping directly in front of the bottom step.
“That’s the general idea.” I glanced at Alex, expecting him to join his father. But Alex wouldn’t look at me. He wouldn’t even look up from his shoes.
Uh-oh. That couldn’t be good.
Malone half turned and nodded to one of his men, and Parker’s brother stepped forward, spine stiff, gaze boring into mine. He was the oldest of the Pierce boys, and a full decade my senior. But I couldn’t quite remember his name…
“I challenge your leadership of the south-central Pride. One-on-one. Winner becomes Alpha.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Parker beat me to it. “Kent, you son of a bitch, I’ll kill you for this.”
I glanced at Parker to find his jaws tight, his arms bulging through the material of his shirt, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. And suddenly I understood how Kenton Pierce—that was his name—had risen so quickly into Malone’s good graces. And how Malone had known about the secret funeral.
Kent didn’t answer his brother, so I made the only reply I could—my only option, other than handing over the Pride, my father’s life’s work, to a man I’d rarely ever spoken to. “I accept.”
I’d never seen Kent fight, so I had no idea what his strengths and weaknesses were. But he clearly had the greater strength, size, and experience. All I had was an ironclad determination to win. To keep my Pride intact and protect my family.
Kent nodded, his expression notably absent of satisfaction, or even anticipation. He didn’t look particularly happy to be challenging for Alpha status, but obviously Malone had made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. At least, not if he wanted to live.
Too bad I’d have to kill him, anyway.
“This is your home turf—for the moment,” Kent said, making no move to take off his jacket or prepare for the imminent ass kicking. “Do you have a forum preference? Maybe the barn?”
“No.” The barn had walls. And stalls. And countless other physical elements that could be used against me. The best way to eat away at his advantages would be to deprive him of all of that. “Right there.” I pointed to the circle of brown grass at the center of the driveway loop.
Kenton twisted to look, then nodded, apparently satisfied. “That will work. Dean?” He made a broad, one-handed gesture, and Colin Dean jogged into the center of the circle, then turned to watch me. Waiting.
It actually took me several seconds to understand. Then Kent was kind enough to state it for me. “Colin Dean will fight for the challenger.”
“What?” I tore my irate gaze from Dean—who gloated at me from thirty feet away—to frown at Kenton Pierce. “You’re not going to fight? And you picked Colin Dean as your…champion?” There were so many things wrong with that statement. “What, are you too scared to fight me yourself?”
Kent scowled, then glanced briefly at his father before turning back to me. “Of course not. I’m simply utilizing the resources at my disposal.”
“You practiced that, didn’t you?” I forced a cold smile. “I bet you have it written down on a note card in your pocket, and I bet the handwriting isn’t yours. Did they make you memorize it? Did they tell you what to say after I kick your ass? Assuming you’re still capable of speech?”