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Pride (Shifters #3)(50)

By:Rachel Vincent

Wes Gardner was Alpha of the Great Lakes Pride, and his brother Jamey, an adopted member of our Pride, had been killed by Manx a couple of months earlier. We’d had every intention of avenging Jamey’s death, but when we found out he was killed by a pregnant, abused, and emotionally fragile tabby, things got…complicated.
And my father had acted without consulting the Territorial Council for the same reason I’d gone into Kaci’s room without permission—using the official channels always takes forever, and while the Alphas are wasting time, people die. In large part because men like Calvin Malone are more interested in flexing their political muscles than actually helping those depending on them.
That raging bastard!
“We have to tell Daddy.”
“Yeah, I’m going to tell him while you’re talking to Kaci. But Brett wanted you to know first. He thinks he owes you for saving his life. And he said he’d keep his ears open, just in case.”
I nodded, already walking again to get my blood flowing. “Thank him for me, please.”
Jace smiled. “I already did.”
Anger buzzed inside me so fiercely my skin tingled all the way to the lodge. I yanked open the front door and stomped past my uncle and Lucas in the living room, hell-bent on standing up to Calvin Malone for once. He’d threatened to have me executed, gotten Marc exiled, and was planning to usurp my father’s position on the council. If someone didn’t drag his corrupt ass back down to earth soon, the bastard would probably start to think he could fly…
Furniture springs groaned as my cousin stood and fell into place beside Jace, making a show of support at my back like a member of some badass entourage.
I marched down the hall and into the dining room, where Councilmen Malone and Blackwell sat at the table, scooping huge spoonfuls of homemade chicken and dumplings from thick, ceramic soup bowls with cows painted on them.
When I appeared in his peripheral vision, Malone froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth, then lowered it slowly. “Miss Sanders.” He nodded, acknowledging me politely, which shot my anger to the next level. His civil tone meant he knew he’d gotten rid of Marc and could now afford to be magnanimous. Slimy little pricks like Calvin Malone were rarely friendly under other circumstances. “What can we do for you?”
Several colorful answers popped into my head, but I kept my reply to the point, because if Paul Blackwell hadn’t yet officially gone over to the Dark Side, one more outburst from me might very well send him there. My stand would have to be calm, and mature, and reasonable. Otherwise it would be very short-lived
I took a long, deep breath. “Jace said you needed something from me.”
Malone’s jaw tightened at my word choice. I’d said “needed” instead of “wanted,” to emphasize the fact that they did need me. And if Malone expected my help, he was going to have to ask for it. Nicely.Jace’s stepfather nodded stiffly. “The tabby—”
“Her name is Kaci Dillon,” I interrupted, my pulse spiking in petty satisfaction when his hand clenched around his spoon. That was just one more piece of information he wouldn’t have had, if not for me.
“Of course. Kaci seems to have bonded with you, and we want to know where she’s from and who her Pride is. And how she got here.”
What, no pretty please?
I sucked in a deep breath and glanced over my shoulder, glad to see Jace and Lucas still had my back, even if they’d stopped near the doorway. “Fine.” My focus narrowed on Malone. “I’m going to do this for you. But you’re going to do something for me in return.”
Malone’s face flushed in fury. “You’re in no position to ask for anything.”
“I’m not asking.”
Behind me, Jace chuckled, and the corner of my mouth quirked.
“What do you want?” Blackwell asked before Malone could come up with an original threat to my life or freedom.
“I want permission for Marc to visit the Lazy S every other weekend. Conjugal visits, if you will.” I couldn’t stifle a smile that time. Malone’s whole reasoning for getting rid of Marc was to try to force me into a relationship with someone he considered more suitable for fathering the next generation. Preferably one of his sons.
My request would derail his entire evil scheme.
Malone’s face went from “maraschino” to “red dwarf” in less than a second. “No. Absolutely not. An exiled tom has no business on Pride land, and no business with you.”
“Fine. Go question Kaci yourself.” I spun on one heel and was halfway to the door before Blackwell called after me.
“Don’t you dare walk away from us without being dismissed!”
“Why not?” I turned to find the council’s senior member standing, one wrinkled hand on the table for balance. Let’s find out where the swing vote stands on the matter of my death sentence… “Aren’t you going to have me executed no matter what I do?”
Surprise registered on the old man’s face, followed by a flicker of confusion as he glanced at Malone. Did that mean he’d participated in Malone’s capital punishment bluff, or only that he knew about it?
I couldn’t tell. “Knowing that leaves me with no motivation to do what you want. What are you going to do, kill me twice?” I spared a glance over my shoulder at Jace as I borrowed his phrase, then turned back to the Alphas. “Next time you want to manipulate someone, remember to leave the poor bastard a little hope to keep him cooperative. Simple, but effective.” 
And apparently completely beyond the ken of Calvin Malone, who looked ready to burst from the pressure building behind his fake-reasonable mask.
I shrugged and propped both hands on my hips, eyeing Malone. “So, do we have a deal, or are you ready to go up there and make nice with Kaci. I hear you two got along famously.”
For several moments, no one spoke, and I could read indecision on their faces as Malone and Blackwell stared at each other, trying in vain to make a decision without discussing their options in front of me. But the Alphas were screwed, and they knew it. Or at least, Malone did.
Before he could use Kaci in his little coup, he had to make sure she didn’t have a troop of angry brothers and enforcers coming after her. And if she didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt to get on her good side, to ensure her cooperation. But he couldn’t do either on his own. He needed me. Not that I really had any intention of helping him.
“Fine. You find out where she’s from, how she got here, and what Pride she belongs to, and we’ll let Marc pay you a visit.”
“Every other week…” I insisted.
Malone shook his head stiffly. “Once a year.”
I laughed in his face, and enjoyed every second of it. “Once a month, or I walk.”
Jace’s stepfather growled and glared at me, and started to shake his head again. But Blackwell elbowed his fellow Alpha into silence and watched me with shrewd, glinting black eyes. “Once every six months. You either take that and consider yourself lucky or I’ll fly my granddaughter out to bond with this new tabby, and you can kiss your lover goodbye forever.”
Shit. I knew when I’d been had, and judging by the way Blackwell’s face screwed up in disgust when he called Marc my lover, that time had come. Still, I’d stood up to Malone and pissed him off. And I’d kept him from completely cutting Marc out of my life.
I beamed over my victory. “Deal.”
At the end of the upstairs hall, I snatched a bundle of my own clothing from the tom posted at Kaci’s bedroom door, one of Paul Blackwell’s enforcers, whom I barely knew. I had no idea how he wound up with the outfit I’d sent Jace for earlier, but I was glad he had it, since I’d completely forgotten the poor girl was still naked.
The garments tucked under one arm, I knocked on Kaci’s door. There was no answer, so I knocked again, then turned the knob and slipped inside. Kaci was curled up on the floor in that same corner, still huddled beneath only the thin blanket, in spite of the late-November chill. The steady rise and fall of her small chest told me she was asleep.
I set the clothes on the nearest bed and dropped to my knees several feet from the sleeping tabby. I was afraid that if I woke her suddenly, she’d be frightened and disoriented, and I’d have to restrain her. She’d been through enough without having to fight me. So I waited.
My gaze was drawn to her face. She looked so…normal. Other than the fact that she was sleeping on the floor. And that she was too thin. And that she had mud and twigs caught in her hair. But her face could have been the face of any thirteen-year-old on the planet. Those well-formed lips and long, thick lashes could have belonged to a junior-high softball pitcher. Those thin fingers, now clutching the blanket to her chin, could play the piano in another life. And perhaps they would again, someday soon.
But the pessimist in me seriously doubted it. There was something unusual about this girl. Something different from every tabby I’d ever known. Maybe it was that she was an orphan. Maybe that was enough to account for the fierce determination to survive I’d glimpsed in her eyes each time fear faded from them. But I couldn’t help thinking it was something else. Something connected to the reason she was on her own, instead of surrounded by the usual cocoon of brothers and enforcers.As I watched, her eyes twitched behind her eyelids and her fists clenched around the hem of the blanket. She grunted in her sleep, and I was troubled by the obvious fear in such an inarticulate sound. My hand reached out before I could stop it, and I brushed a strand of dirt-caked hair from her face. She looked so fragile, so defenseless, and my urge to protect her was so overwhelming I couldn’t breathe without tasting it in the air.