26. Aleks
Aleks
After that initial confrontation, Grant acted as though he’d entirely forgotten Evie, Cash, and even Leo’s imagined betrayal.
Well, maybe not imagined. Maybe more like Leo’s betrayal of him, but not of anyone who mattered.
He immediately went back to planning his little takeover of a pack that had nothing to do with us.
The entire plan made no sense to me, but what could I say to him?
More, why would I say it to begin with? Grant knew what he wanted, and my opinion was irrelevant to him.
I didn’t even have all the information about why he was doing what he was doing, so there was no way to know why he’d made such a poor decision.
Still, he dragged us all out of the house, only pausing long enough to glare at Viktor once as he told us we were going to confront “the puppies,” and tell them it was time to come back to the fold.
I wondered if he was being deliberately rude to make them less likely to be kind in their dealings with us. Did he want them to fight us?
I wondered what he might do if they agreed that certainly, we should merge packs.
On the other hand, if they did that, Grant wouldn’t be the one who ended up alpha. I knew that going in, without ever meeting a single one of the San Francisco wolves.
The moment Jax opened the door of their fancy house, that fact was even more apparent. There were no fewer than half a dozen wolves in this pack who would never bow to Grant. Jax wasn’t even close to the most intimidating of the lot.
No, that was the woman standing next to him in a suit that somehow looked .
. . spiky. She was even taller than him, probably because of high heeled shoes, but that wasn’t what made her alpha material.
No, that was the hard set of her shoulders, and her impressive expression of disdain for Grant, without ever saying a word.
There was also the enormous dark-skinned man who stood watchful at the back of the group, a stance and attitude that reminded me strongly of Viktor—an impression firmed by how Viktor’s gaze lingered on him as he looked the group over. He was the threat Viktor’s eye was drawn to.
No, Grant had no hope to win a fight with any of these people.
Next to me, Mother trembled, and I looked down to find her not frightened, but amused. Clearly, I wasn’t paying enough attention to whatever was going on. I took a deep breath of the air, trying to use scents to parse . . .
Cash.
There was the rather confusing scent of arousal coming from one of the San Francisco wolves, but I didn’t care about that anymore, or anything else.
I’d spent the last night obsessing that Cash was dead and it was my fault, only able to try to move forward, not go back and fix my mistakes, but here it was.
The scent of Cash.
Not dead. Alive. There was blood and pain and other things that implied healing to me, but that meant this wasn’t over. I almost shuddered with the relief of it, until behind me, Viktor pressed a subtle hand into my back, reminding me I was not among only friends.
I brought my attention back to the conversation to find Grant . . . was he quoting wolf law? Something about wolves of old gathering under the waxing moon, which was about the most un-Grant-like language I’d ever heard in my life.
Probably something Ermengarde had fed him to say, and he thought it would make him sound smarter than he was.
I had to stifle a snort at that, but adrenaline was flying through my veins.
Cash was alive. He had to be. All I could think was how to get one of the San Francisco wolves alone so I could ask . . . except why would they trust me? If I cornered any one of them, they would assume, sensibly, that I was a threat.
“Look,” Jax interrupted Grant’s bullshit.
“If you want to meet with my pack, we can have dinner. There’s a Mexican place just up the street, La Cantina, we’ll call ahead and meet you there in an hour.
No, you’re not invited into my pack’s home.
No, you won’t ever be invited into my pack’s home.
Also, don’t embarrass us or yourselves at the restaurant, because we like to go there, and I don’t need to be cleaning up after you and your brother’s messes anymore. ”
I had to gulp in a breath and hold it to keep from laughing, as he then closed the door in our faces. I should have been angry. I was an alpha-to-be, and it was rude, right?
Except that it was rude of us to even be there, let alone show up in force to their home. We’d come as a threat, and frankly, Ajax Fyse was treating us as some annoying gnats flying around his head in the middle of summer.
Good for him.
Grant scowled and grumbled and muttered to himself, but I noted, he also did precisely what Ajax had told him to do.
He took us and showed up at the restaurant an hour later.
I was a little surprised the other alpha didn’t immediately point this out, calling Grant a good boy or something else patronizing and dickish.
I would have.
I wanted to, even though I was supposed to be on Grant’s side.
But I wasn’t. Wouldn’t ever be on Grant’s side again.
He had attacked Cash, called Evie property, and threatened to kill my brother.
Grant and his goons might not know it yet, but life as they had arranged it was over.
They had set events into motion, and whether Ajax Fyse killed Grant, or if it had to be me or Viktor, someone was going to. He was never going back to Idaho.
The first thing that happened when we got into the restaurant was that the terrifying spiky woman gripped an enormous margarita before anyone had ordered anything at all. Fyse’s mate leaned over to her and asked if she was all right, and she pointed out Giselle as what she was.
“She was Reeve’s procurer,” she said wth a sneer. “She once tried to force me to sleep with Reeve’s uncle Jason when I was fourteen. He was sixty.”
While she took a big gulp of her drink, Fyse’s claws were having their way with the table’s edge.
His mate leaned over and touched his hand. “I know, babe,” he said, “but don’t take it out on the table. We can eject the gross pedophiles from our city soon.”
I snorted. It earned me a glare from Grant, but when I wiped my nose with the napkin and pretended it was just a tickle, he let it go. There were enough scents in this city to bother any wolf.
Giselle was snotty and acted above it, but the young man who was the alpha’s mate didn’t let it go.
Not that he continued talking about it, but he stared intensely at Giselle for a long time. I thought he’d jump across the table and gut her, but then there was . . . something else. A strange, almost ozonic scent, like there was lightning in the air.
I was so busy staring at this man, the witchwolf, as he in return stared at Giselle, I didn’t even notice when Giselle lost her balance. There was a crash, and suddenly, she was on the floor, shocked and irritated and mumbling something about the chair being wobbly.
I looked at her as she took hold of it again and sat down, and the chair wasn’t wobbly at all. But now Giselle smelled of ozone. Like she was the one who’d been struck by lightning.
My eyes automatically flicked back up to where the witchwolf was staring at her.
So that was what magic smelled like.
Good to know, for the future.
And good for him. I liked him already.
“Now,” Grant started as soon as we had ordered food, while I was still sitting there counting up what all that food was going to cost and wondering where he would get the money for it.
Did he expect the San Francisco pack to pay?
Nonsense. I poured myself a drink from one of the pitchers on my side of the table, and practically downed it, then refilled it.
Twenty dollars’ worth of alcohol, gone in ten seconds.
“We’ve all always known that the break in the pack was silly.
Yes, yes, my brother was wrong. But given that the pack leadership has changed, it’s time for you kids to come back to the fold. ”
“You’re barely ten years older than Jax,” a young woman pointed out, then rolled her lips together as though regretting bringing attention to herself.
Her alpha didn’t seem remotely offended by her interjection and simply nodded to her.
But he didn’t respond to Grant. Didn’t explain why he was wrong or give him an opportunity to argue.
He simply took a pitcher off the table and poured himself a drink, then turned to his mate.
“We didn’t need another kind, did we? Charles always prefers strawberry, but he’s not eating with us, so . . . ”
Next to me, Mama’s hand shot out and steadied a glass. For a moment, I was worried about her, but then I realized she was just keeping Giselle’s glass from tipping across the table. The older woman grumbled something about there being too much “junk” on the table, but . . . that was odd.
And when I turned toward her, the odd whiff of magic remained on the air. Over everyone else’s head, I met Viktor’s eye, and he gave me the tiniest nod.
Well damn.
Do not piss off the witchwolf, I decided to myself. Not that I’d intended to before, but that was impressively petty, and so very well deserved.
Myself, I hoped next time she fell down, she broke her neck and saved me the trouble of killing her.
I had enough old-fashioned sexism in me to not relish the idea of killing a woman, even though this one was a monster who deserved no better.
When the pack as we knew it made its shift, she would definitely not have a place in its future.
I wondered, when Ajax ignored Grant’s demands for the fifth time, what it felt like to be so completely dismissed by someone you saw as a lesser being.
Grant kept telling the man he was a child, a “lost stray,” and other insulting nonsense, and the San Francisco alpha was treating him like an enthusiastic five-year-old talking about the new thing he’d learned.