Cesare turned, saw us, and stumbled. For a moment he froze, caught like a deer in the headlights,
and then he ducked into a room.
I turned and went into our quarters. Curran didn't follow.
Andrea greeted me with a wave. She sat on a bench, a variety of strange mechanical parts, which
no doubt combined into a deadly firearm, spread before her on a white towel. I sat next to her.
«Where is everybody?»
«Hiding,» she said. «Except for Doolittle. He was excused from the chewing-out due to having
been kidnapped. He's napping now like he doesn't have a care in the world. I got to hear all sorts of
interesting stuff through the door.»
«Give.»
She shot me a sly smile. «First, I got to listen to Jim's 'it's all my fault; I did it all by myself'
speech. Then I got to listen to Derek's 'it's all my fault and I did it all by myself' speech. Then
Curran promised that the next person who wanted to be a martyr would get to be one. Then Raphael
made a very growling speech about how he was here for a blood debt. It was his right to have
restitution for the injury caused to the friend of the boudas; it was in the damn clan charter on such
and such page. And if Curran wanted to have an issue with it, they could take it outside. It was
terribly dramatic and ridiculous. I loved it.»
I could actually picture Curran sitting there, his hand on his forehead above his closed eyes,
growling quietly in his throat.
«Then Dali told him that she was sick and tired of being treated like she was made out of glass
and she wanted blood and to kick ass.»
That would do him in. «So what did he say?»
«He didn't say anything for about a minute and then he chewed them out. He told Derek that
he'd been irresponsible with Livie's life, and that if he was going to rescue somebody, the least he
could do is to have a workable plan, instead of a poorly thought-out mess that backfired and broke
just about every Pack law and got his face smashed in. He told Dali that if she wanted to be taken
seriously, she had to accept responsibility for her own actions instead of pretending to be weak and
helpless every time she got in trouble and that this was definitely not the venue to prove one's
toughness. Apparently he didn't think her behavior was cute when she was fifteen and he's not
inclined to tolerate it now that she's twenty-eight.»
I was cracking up.
«He told Raphael that the blood debt overrode Pack law only in cases of murder or life-
threatening injury and quoted the page of the clan charter and the section number where that could
be found. He said that frivolous challenges to the alpha also violated Pack law and were punishable
by isolation. It was an awesome smackdown. They had no asses left when he was done.»
Andrea began snapping the gun parts together. «Then he sentenced the three of them and himself
to eight weeks of hard labor, building the north wing addition to the Keep, and dismissed them.
They ran out of there like their hair was on fire.»
«He sentenced himself?»
«He's broken Pack law by participating in our silliness, apparently.»
That's Beast Lord for you. «And Jim?»
«Oh, he got a special chewing-out after everybody else was dismissed. It was a very quiet and
angry conversation, and I didn't hear most of it. I heard the end, though-he got three months of
Keep building. Also, when he opened the door to leave, Curran told him very casually that if Jim
wanted to pick fights with his future mate, he was welcome to do so, but he should keep in mind
that Curran wouldn't come and rescue him when you beat his ass. You should've seen Jim's face.»
«His what?»
«His mate. M-A-T-E.»
I cursed.
Andrea grinned. «I thought that would make your day. And now you're stuck with him in here
for three days and you get to fight together in the Arena. It's so romantic. Like a honeymoon.»
Once again my mental conditioning came in handy. I didn't strangle her on the spot.
Raphael chose this moment to walk into the room. «The Reaper bout is about to start. Curran
said to tell you that your creep's going to fight.»
CHAPTER 26
THE ROWS OF SEATS, EMPTY AN HOUR BEFORE, were filled to capacity. Individuals in
their own lives, here the spectators melded into a single entity, a loud, furious, excitable beast with
a thousand throats. The night was young and the beast was fickle and bloodthirsty.
Someone, probably Jim or Derek, had found a narrow access staircase that connected the second
and third floors. Recessed deeply into the wall to the left of the Gold Gate, it lay steeped in shadows
and was practically invisible to the crowd concentrating on the brightly lit Gold Gate and the Pit