Hey, Marc, isnt that Painters car behind us?
Marc twisted, and I turned to look with him. Sure enough, there it wasa grimy white Dodge Daytona, with a fist-size dent in the front bumper.
Marc scowled. I told you he wouldnt be that easy to lose.
What should I do?
Nothing. Let him follow us. Marcs jaws bulged in irritation. Ill need a ride back from Birmingham anyway.
The rest of the trip was blessedly uneventful. Even with several bathroom and breast-feeding breaks, the winter sun was just past its zenith when we pulled into a Shell station off the highway, a couple of miles south of Birmingham. While Vic pumped gas, I made myself say goodbye to Marc.
Wed planned for him to drive me back across the free zonethe guys would stay with Manx for the duration of the trialbut after the previous days ambush my father wouldnt hear of another trip through Mississippi. So Id be flying back.
Its not forever, Marc insisted softly. But it may as well have been.
My hand lingered on his chest, his on my waist, and only when Dan Painter pulled up behind us in his sick-sounding car did Marc let our foreheads touch. He whispered goodbye and kissed me. Then he pulled open Vics passenger-side door, pushed me gently onto the seat and closed the door again.
I rolled the window down and stole one more kiss, then he smiled and turned away.
Need a ride? Painter asked, one arm hanging out his car window.
Marc scowled. Do you think you can resist announcing our whereabouts to any future opponents we may encounter?
Dude, I told you that was an accident. I had no idea some asshole was gonna round up the posse and come out guns a-blazin. What do you want, a formal apology?
A little silence would suffice, Marc snapped, stomping around the car. He jerked open the door and slid onto the seat, just as Vic emerged from the convenience store. Marc waved to him, then turned to Dan. Lets get out of here before someone gets a whiff of you. No one gave you permission to leave the free zone.
With that, Dan stomped on the gas and they roared out of the parking lot and back onto the highway.
The rest of the drive was much less pleasant, but peacefully dull. And if not for several crying spells from Des, I might have made up for the sleep Id missed the night before. But when the Atlanta skyline came into view, Manx began to fidget. Her foot bounced on the floorboard. Her nails tapped on the armrest. She stared out her window and didnt seem to hear Des when he began to fuss, waving tiny red fists in the air.
Manx, you okay? I leaned over the bench seat with my chin resting on my folded arms.
She never looked away from the window. That is Atlanta?
Yeah. See that big round building? Thats a hotel. I stayed there once with Sara. Her mom took us for a weekend downtown after she graduated from high I fell silent when I noticed Vic watching me in the rearview mirror, his eyes brimming with pain and full of nostalgia.
Sara Di Carlo, his only sister, had been raped and murdered seven months earlier by the jungle stray Ryan had fallen in with. Days later, his younger brother, Anthony, died during our attempt to capture Saras killers.
The Di Carlo familys wounds were still fresh, and the tragedy didnt end there. With no tabby to bear its next generation, their family line would die along with Vic and his brothers, and with no descendants, they would eventually lose control of their territory.
Which was why my father hoped that, if all parties were amenableand if she survived her trialManx might join the southeast Pride. She could never replace Sara, of course. But she could help the Di Carlos hold on to their territory. Help them reclaim their future. If she were willing.
But at the moment, Manx didnt look very happy to be in Georgia.
So, we are close? she asked, and I thought I saw her chin quiver.
Manx was one of the toughest tabbies Id ever met in my life. Tougher than my mother, whod once kept the Alphas in line single-handedly, and whod saved my life only months earlier. Tougher than me, by far. And maybe even tougher than Kaci, who had to live every day of her life knowing what shed accidentally done to her family. Manx had survived abduction, brutal beatings, the loss of her tail, serial rape, and the murder of two infant sons. Somehow, shed come out of a living hell stronger than ever, and determined to hunt down the bastard whod both sired and murdered her children.
But now Luiz was dead, and she was on trial for multiple counts of murder. If she was convicted and sentenced to death, the son shed fought to save would never even know his mother.
After years of torture and months of running and fighting, now Manx was scared. And it almost broke my heart.
About forty more miles. Vic flexed his injured arm stiffly, his free hand still on the wheel. Mom has the guest room all fixed up for you and Des. She even dug up Saras old crib. Its ancient, and I think its pink, but itll give him somewhere comfortable to nap.
The sun had just dipped beneath the horizon when we pulled into the Di Carlos long, arched driveway, beyond which their beautiful, old Italianate house was lit by several strategically placed floodlights.
Vics family lived outside of Canton, Georgia, in the house theyd bought when Vic was still a toddler, and had been renovating ever since. It looked like a big white-framed box, lined in black-shuttered windows and crowned with four redbrick chimneys. As the SUV bounced over the gravel driveway, headlights illuminated an elaborate porch, complete with columns and latticed arches, lined in evergreen shrubs.
The property sat in the center of a broad, flat lawn that was green in the summer, but brown and crunchy in the middle of January.
In back of the main house stood a large detached garage, above which sat the former servants quarters. But the Di Carlos had long ago enclosed the garage and turned the entire building into an apartment, where their enforcers now lived.
Beyond the apartment were several acres of private woodland, a necessity for any large group of werecats. It was a place for them to run, play, and hunt, without being bothered by the surrounding human population.
Since the trial would begin the following morning, Id expected the driveway to be full, cars parked in rows out back, even. But there were only three vehicles ahead of our van, all of which probably belonged to Vics family.
Where is everyone? I asked, pushing open the car door. The temperature had dropped when the sun went down, and I pulled my jacket tight around me, shivering in spite of the layer of leather.
Vic stepped onto the driveway, boots crunching on gravel. The guys park around back. Theyre probably in the apartment, lying low.
Which I could easily understand. Large Alpha gatherings made me nervous, too.
My mom and dad are both here. Vic eyed the two cars parked closest to the house. But I dont recognize that one. He nodded to the beige sedan wed parked behind.
I bent to read the sticker on one corner of the rear windshield. Its a rental. Michael must already be here. Thank goodness. I didnt want to be the only one representing my family, even just for a few hours. As much progress as Id made in the think-before-you-speak department, slip-ups still happened, at the worst possible times, and Alphas Gardner and Mitchell were already angry enough with the south-central Pride.
My dad said the Alphas all took rooms in town, so they probably wont show up until tomorrow morning, Vic said, as if hed read my mind. Or my expression.
Oh. Good.
At the back of the van, Brian was stacking luggage on the ground. I zipped up my jacket and grabbed two suitcases, then followed Vic up the sidewalk toward the house. We were halfway there when the door creaked opened and a tiny woman in creased jeans and a dark blouse appeared on the porch.
Victor! Donna Di Carlo raced down the steps and stood on tiptoe to hug her son, heedless of the bags he held, or the cold that must have blown instantly through her thin shirt. She looked older than when Id last seen her, the lines on her face deeper, her hair grayer. Losing two children was likely the hardest thing shed ever endure, but Vics mother was strong; she hadnt let it kill her.
In that respect, she reminded me of Manx.
Why does it take a tragedy to get you to visit? Just once Id like to see you when nothings wrong. When you just came home to say, Mom, I love you.
Mom, I love you. Vic grinned, but there was pain beneath his pleasant expression. He hadnt seen his parents since Sara and Anthonys funeral, and I suspected he wouldnt see them again for quite a while. Because being home made him remember.
Thats much better. Now go put those bags in the front hall before they freeze out here. Vic did as he was told, and his mother turned her eagle-sharp eyes on me. Faythe Sanders, Id say it was nice to see you, if you didnt look so thin. Has your mother stopped cooking?
No, maam, and I havent stopped eating, either. I smiled. But I burn a lot of energy on the job.
Job? She looked confused for a moment, hands propped on hips that flared from her tiny waist. Oh, yes. Youre enforcing for your father. Hardly a proper line of work for a young woman, but if youre going to fight like a man, I can certainly feed you like one. Her smile softened the sting of her censure. Come on in. Were about to sit down to a big pot of gumbo. You like gumbo, dont you?
Yes, ma am. I followed her up the porch stairs and into the long central hallway, where I dropped the bags I carried next to those Vic had abandoned before hed disappeared.
Bert, come on out and say hi, she said, taking the jacket I shrugged out of.
But before Umberto Di Carlo appeared, soft footsteps clicked on the hardwood behind us, and I turned to find Manx standing in the doorway, a blanket-wrapped bundle clutched close to her chest. Her gray eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed from the cold beneath her smooth, olive complexion.
Well, you must be Mercedes. Mrs. Di Carlo propped her hands on her hips again and stepped forward boldly to inspect Manx, who towered over her by at least six inches. My, arent you a beauty. Ill have to warn my boys to keep their distance.
Whether she was thinking of Manxs fear of being touched, or her status as a serial killer, I wasnt sure. Either way, her greeting obviously wasnt what Manx had expected. The tabby stared at Vics mother and clutched the baby tighter.
Well, come on in before you let out all the heat. Mrs. Di Carlo ushered Manx into the entry, and Brian slipped inside carrying two more suitcases before she could close the door. And who is this little gentleman? Mrs. Di Carlo leaned over to peer at the babys face, the only exposed part of his tiny body.
This is Desiderio Carreño. Manxs eyes went soft as her gaze fell on her baby. He smiled just this morning.
Did he! Mrs. Di Carlo beamed, clearly thrilled by the news, though shed barely even met the child. Well, this is a pleasure. We havent had a baby in the house in such a long time. Ill show you to your room.
Manx and Brian trailed our hostess up the central staircase, and theyd no sooner vanished from sight than a door opened down the hallway, admitting Umberto Di Carlo into the entry. His wide-set brown eyes brightened the moment they landed on me.
Faythe! Come in and warm up. Your brother and I were about to indulge in a predinner drink. Join us! He turned without waiting for my reply, and I followed him through an arched doorway into a room filled with overstuffed furniture, dark woods and thick rugs. On the far side of the room, facing a cozy arrangement of couches and chairs, logs blazed in a stone fireplace, casting jumping shadows on the warm, wood-paneled walls.
Michael stood when we entered, frowning in concern the moment his eyes found mine. Dad told me about the ambush. Are you okay? He took my arm before I could protest and pushed my sleeve up carefully to expose the half-healed bite marks I hadnt bothered to rebandage that morning.
Im fine. None of us was seriously injured, which is a miracle, considering how badly we were outnumbered.
Michael looked half relieved and half jealous to have missed the excitement.
Sit! Vics father ordered pleasantly, after a glance at my new scars. His footsteps thundered as he crossed the room toward a small cherry bar in one corner. What can I get you to drink?
Scotch? Michael sank onto the left-hand sofa beside me, and Bert nodded in approval.
Just like your father. He pulled a half-empty bottle of Chivas Regal from beneath the bar and poured an inch into two short glasses, then looked up at me. Faythe?
Im fine, thanks. Id had enough alcohol the night before to last the rest of the month, at least.
He nodded and crossed the room to hand one glass to Michael. Then he sat on the sedate green couch opposite us, resting a thick hand on the scrolled arm. So, how are things at the Lazy S?
A little tense right now, I admitted, scuffing the toe of my boot on the red and gray rug.
Michael cleared his throat. I cant tell you how much my father appreciates your support, especially at a time like this.
Di Carlo nodded gravely, and I could see that his decision to back our dad hadnt been made lightly. The councils going to hell in a handbasket, Michael, and if someone doesnt stand up to Calvin Malone, its only going to get worse. But Im afraid this one wont be won easily.
Nothing worthwhile ever is. Michael frowned sagely, and I knew the conversation would turn quickly to unpleasant politics. If I didnt deliver my message soon, Id lose my chance.
Mr. Di Carlo
Child, call me Bert. He grinned, and leaned toward me conspiratorially. I saw you streak through your fathers office in the buff when you were no higher than my knee. Id say that makes us friends.
I flushed, but nodded. Bert, my father has an idea he wanted me to mention to you. About Manx. Mercedes. Assuming the tribunal finds in her favor Well, shes lost her whole family, and youve lost your daughter I broke off, unsure how to continue. Saying it aloud made it sound like I was trying to restructure the Di Carlo familysticking my nose in where it definitely didnt belong.
But Bert finished the thought for me. Your father thought we might want to keep her?
Well I wouldnt have phrased it quite that way, but Yes. Assuming she gets along with everyone. And wants to stay, of course.
Bert nodded and sipped from his glass. I have to admit Ive had similar thoughts. Your father assures us that her crimes were the result of severe physical and emotional trauma