His brows rose in surprise, and his expression softened ever so slightly. “She told you her name?”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you. I was in there working, not goofing off with my girlfriend. We didn’t paint a single toenail!” Not that I’d ever done that in my entire life.
He actually smiled at that one briefly before recomposing his business face. “What did she say?”
“Just her name and age. She was about to say more when you…arrived.” My father scowled again, and I rushed to fill the pause. “Her name is Kaci Dillon, and she’s thirteen and a half years old.”
“Thirteen…?” His words faded into horrified silence and he reached for the woodpile, as if to steady himself. “That isn’t possible.”
“That’s what I thought.” I glanced at the lodge, where several gaps had appeared in the blinds covering the windows—toms watching us from relative safety. Evidently everyone was awake now, which made me really glad my father had posted Marc and Jace at the tabby’s door with orders not to let anyone in—or out—until further notice from him. Including the other Alphas.
It was a risky move, and they wouldn’t be able to hold the door themselves if the entire tribunal decided they wanted in. But that wasn’t likely to happen, thanks to Uncle Rick, and even if it did, we’d hear the ruckus from outside and come running to straighten things out. So for the moment, I was confident that the tabby was safe.
“Who is she?” my father asked, now pacing the length of the woodpile, crunching dead leaves beneath his feet. The question was rhetorical, fortunately, because I certainly didn’t have the answer. “I’ve never heard of the Dillons, or their Pride. How could I never have heard of them?”
No, we didn’t know every Pride in the world personally, but my father knew every Pride in North America, by name and reputation at least, and several of those in Middle and South America, as well as Europe. And Kaci spoke English. American English, as far as I could tell, with no accent I could discern in what few words she’d said so far. It made no sense.
“It gets even weirder than that. She didn’t know how to Shift. I had to talk her through it step by step.” I rocked on my heels, my hands clasped nervously at my back. “You know, there’s a possibility no one else seems willing to say out loud…”
“No.” He stopped near the far end of the woodpile, to glare at me over one shoulder. “She was probably too nervous to Shift on her own, which makes sense considering how young she is. She is not a stray, Faythe.”
“Why? Because we’ve never seen a female one? There’s a first time for everything, Daddy.”
His eyes glazed over and the pacing recommenced, and just like that, I was dismissed, along with my theory-threatening, comfort-zone-shattering, too-new-to-be-considered yet perfectly-possible idea.
Irritation clenched my jaws, so I spoke through them. “Why is it that when Manx claims to have met a female stray, everyone smiles and says anything’s possible, but when I merely mention that very possibility, the same people roll their eyes and laugh in my face?”My Alpha reached the end of the woodpile and turned. “They’re humoring her. They expect more of you. You’re well educated, well trained, and even well respected in certain circles.”
I was? Cool. A tingle of pride shivered its way through me, though I knew the downside was coming…
“Spouting nonsense like that makes you sound like those idiots who turn up in the woods with their cameras every year hoping to spot Bigfoot.”
“You know, they’re not completely off base.” I plucked a lone brown leaf dangling from the branch over my head and broke off the first lobe. “Someday one of them might get lucky and capture a shot of Elias Keller.”
He growled softly in reproach. “You’re missing the point. She’s not a stray, and I’m basing that on nothing more than the fact that she doesn’t smell like a stray. If she did we’d all have noticed immediately.”
“She doesn’t smell like a male stray, but maybe she does smell like a female stray and we don’t know because we’ve never smelled one.”
He huffed in exasperation. “We’ve smelled female cats, and we’ve smelled strays. It’s not too hard to imagine what a combination would smell like. She’s not a stray, which means she had to come from somewhere. From some Pride. We need more information from her.” Having obviously come to a decision, he stopped pacing to face me. “You’ll have to ask her some more questions.”
Ya think? I rolled my eyes. He’d interrupted us and practically dragged me from the room by my hair, only to tell me to go back and do more of what I’d been doing in the first place. Lovely.
“Don’t start, Faythe. This is different. Now you’ll be going in with permission and an approved agenda, not disobeying a direct order in the middle of the night.”
Technically, it was five-thirty in the morning…
I ripped the last of the leaf in half and let the pieces flutter to the ground. “You think Malone will go for it?”
He hesitated, obviously thinking unpleasant thoughts. “After he’s had his say and you’ve taken whatever’s coming to you, I don’t see that he’ll have much of a choice. He won’t be able to get her to talk.” Without another word, my father headed for the lodge, his steps firm and heavy.
As I followed, trying to catch up without actually running, one last whispered sentenced floated back to me on the chilly, early-morning breeze. “By damn, they can’t call her useless now.”
I smiled in spite of myself, and in spite of the tribunal, every member of which no doubt sat waiting for me inside.
Twenty minutes later, I sat on the living-room couch trying not to nod off on Dr. Carver’s shoulder. Lucas was perched in the armchair on our right, much too stiff and nervous to fall asleep, and Marc sat across the coffee table from him, hands clenched around the arms of the chair nearest the front door. No one spoke. We looked like children lined up outside the principal’s office, waiting to be called in. And essentially, that’s what we were doing.
My father had locked himself in the dining room with the other Alphas to brief them on what we’d done. Try as I might to overhear their meeting, I could only catch the briefest of urgent whispers. They had Beethoven cranked on the stereo again, probably trying to make me sweat.
It was working.
It was nearly 8:00 a.m., and though I was on my second cup of coffee in under five minutes, no one had even started breakfast, because there was no one around to cook. My father and a couple of the other Alphas had called in extra backup to help with the search, but none of the flights would land until evening, so Jace and Michael were about to head into the woods. One of the other enforcer pairs had had to take a double shift because Marc and Lucas were in trouble along with me and Dr. Carver.
Everyone who’d searched until dawn was now sleeping.
So after another night without finding either the strays or the missing human hikers, we were understaffed again, and now walking on eggshells.
Still straining to hear something useful from the dining room, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden pop sounded from the kitchen, followed by a soft fizzing sound—someone opening a can of soda. An instant later Jace stepped into the doorway with a Coke in one hand. “Anyone else thirsty?” He smiled at us hopefully.
My eyes met Jace’s, and irritation fueled the fire of nerves smoldering deep inside me.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Jace’s eyes pleaded with me as the can hovered in front of his mouth. “Your dad was already up when I got to the cabin, and I couldn’t very well lie to him, could I?”
“Of course not.” I sighed. It wasn’t Jace’s fault. We’d known the Alphas would find out eventually. “I’m not mad. I’m just…nervous.” I’d told my dad I was ready to accept the consequences of my actions. But that didn’t mean I was looking forward to it.
“Look, you were actually doing them a favor, and no one got hurt.” He gestured with the can as he spoke. “They’ll bluster for a while, then the whole thing will blow over. Right?” Leaning against the door frame, Jace took a long swallow of his soda, and when no one answered, a tight, cautious smile stole over his face. “I mean, what are they going to do? Execute you twice?”
“That’s not fun—” I started. But then Marc’s fist slammed into the coffee table, and my last syllable was lost beneath the splinter of wood as it broke in two.
“You think this is a joke?” He stood, kicking one-half of the table out of his way. “Because I can guarantee you the Alphas are taking it seriously.” He turned from Jace to glare at me, but I saw the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t mad at either of us. Not really. He was mad at himself. “I should never have let you go in there.” He pulled his foot back and kicked the other half of the coffee table, and I flinched when it smashed into the wall near the door.
Michael appeared from the bathroom, looking surprisingly comfortable in jeans, hiking boots, and a thick flannel over-shirt rather than his usual lawyerly attire. He took one look at Marc, then pulled Jace behind him out the door, on the way to the forest.