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
Of the worst sort, Michael interjected solemnly.
and that shes no longer dangerous. Do you agree with his assessment?
I really wished he hadnt asked me that. But sure enough, the Alpha was looking at me, rather than at my older, wiser brother, and I wasnt going to bullshit one of my fathers few sworn allies.
Mr. Di CarloBertManx has survived things I cant even imagine suffering. Horrors no one should ever have to experience. For years, she was never touched by a man who didnt hurt her. Years. And the very thing that pulled her throughan iron-hard survivalist instinctis what led her to kill those toms. They touched her. She thought they were going to hurt her, or her unborn baby. So she defended herself. Preemptively.
I hesitated on the next part, then finally leaned forward to let him see how earnest I was. Is there a possibility it could happen again? Yes. Unfortunately, I think there is. If she feels threatened, I think she would lash out in self-defense. Or baby-defense. But shes been with us for four months now and has never raised a hand to anyone. I think if you give her a chance to get used to your family, and to the idea that no one here means her any harm, shell come around eventually. I think she wants a normal life, and it wont take too much effort to convince her that you can be trusted.
For a moment, the southeast Prides Alpha only stared at me, still processing my blunt speech. As was Michael. I see, Di Carlo said finally. Then he smiled. Well, I suppose its worth a shot. Assuming the tribunal sees fit to let her live.
And I knew from personal experience just how big an if that really was.
Six
Well, this looks nice. Once you get over all the pink. I ran my hand along the crib railing and nudged one of the mobiles lace butterflies into motion. Vic said his parents had set up a crib for Des, but he hadnt mentioned any of the other stuff. My gaze took in a white wicker rocking chair, some kind of bouncy seat with stuffed bumble bees suspended over it, a changing table piled high with accessories and necessities, and a dirty-diaper storagecontraptionthing. Which I was pretty sure hadnt even been invented when Sara was born.
The Di Carlos had gone shopping for Manxs baby.
Very nice, Manx agreed. But tears stood in her eyes, and in spite of the room full of furnishings, she still clutched the baby to her chest, as if he were the only thing keeping her above water in a swirling, churning whirlpool of fear and confusion.
Whats wrong? I asked, then immediately regretted the question. What wasnt wrong? Do you want tomaybe put him down while you get settled in? I gestured awkwardly toward the crib, and Manx glanced at the baby bed as if seeing it for the first time.
But instead of moving toward it, she met my gaze, her gray eyes magnified by tears. What will happen to me, Faythe? The truth. Vic says all will be fine. What do you say?
Well, shit. I picked up a stuffed lamb from one corner of the crib and played absently with the soft, curly wool. Manx, I honestly dont know. This is kind of unprecedented. I was the only other tabby whod ever been on trial in the U.S., and my case wasnt much like hers, in spite of the surface similarities. The charges against her were more seriousthree counts of murder to my one count each of murder and infectionyet her chances of getting off were much greater than mine.
Which was probably exactly what she needed to hear.
Okay, on the bright side, I dont think theyll vote to execute. I glanced at Manx, then at the door open into the hall. Everyone else was downstairs, and none of the tribunal members had arrived yet, but I wasnt taking any chances. Why dont you sit? I need to explain something to you.
Manxs beautiful lips thinned in dread, but in the end her curiosity won out. While I closed the door, she laid the sleeping baby in the crib, then collapsed into the rocker as if it were a massage chair. I settled cross-legged onto the bed.
Okay In the absence of my own punching pillow, I had to make do with a frilly sham from Manxs temporary bed. I pulled it onto my lap and traced the lacy pattern as I spoke. Youre on trial for killing three toms, but thats not all this hearing is about.
Her forehead knit into several thin lines. What does that mean?
I wasnt sure how much my mother had already explained to her, so I started at the beginning. Its political. From what Id gathered, the South American Prides council held much less authority over individual Prides than ours did, so our political struggles were largely foreign to her. You know my dad was suspended as head of the Territorial Council a little while ago, right? I asked. She nodded. Well, his enemies will probably try to use your trial to manipulate more Alphas into siding against my father. This is as much about him and the way he dealt with yourcrimes as it is about you.
Her frown deepened. I do not understand.
I exhaled slowly, struggling with how best to explain. Some people think my father should have punished you for killing Jamey Gardner. Jameys brother Wes is Alpha of the Great Lakes Pride, and Wes is pushing for the death penalty for you.
Manx nodded, but her hand began to tremble on the arm of the rocker. Shed known execution was a possibility, of course, but knowing something and hearing it spoken aloud were two entirely different animals. To which I could personally attest.
But like I said, I dont think theyll do that. You are a tabby, and we really dont have any of those to spare. Which was probably the only reason I was still breathing.
The tribunal had threatened me with execution, too, but that threat had merely been a bargaining chip meant to force Marc out of the Pride and me into a marriage with someone else. Someone they considered a more appropriate match for me than a stray.
Theyd gotten rid of Marcfor the momentbut Id rather die than let someone else decide who I would marry. Or that I would marry at all. That decision was all mine, and if the council thought otherwise, they could happily go fuck themselves.
Regarding Manxs trial, my best guess was that they would spare her life because, unlike me, she was obviously willing to bear desperately needed children. But there was a catch. She was not willing to be touched by a man. Any man, other than Dr. Carver, whom shed shown no attraction to. And that would seem to make any future children from her pretty damn hard to come by.
Fortunately, Michael had come to Georgia in a professional capacity, and would no doubt emphasize to the tribunal that Manx was still severely traumatized, but that with time, she would recover and hopefully go on to live a normal life. Including a husband and more children.
Fortunately, Michael had come to Georgia in a professional capacity, and would no doubt emphasize to the tribunal that Manx was still severely traumatized, but that with time, she would recover and hopefully go on to live a normal life. Including a husband and more children.
Though I personally thought that husband would have to be a brave soul indeed
Soif they save me? What then?
Oh, now youre asking the tough questions. I smiled, trying to relax her. And to avoid mentioning that whatever happened after her trial would depend heavily on her sentence. But the way I see it, you have a few options. You can come back to the ranch and stay with us. Everyone would love to have you. Though I dont think the council will let you stay in Texas forever.
With both me and Kaci on the ranch, the south-central Pride was already estrogen-heavy, and the other Alphas would never let my father keep three fertile tabbies.
If you dont eventually join another Pride, I suspect our Territorial Council will choose one for you. Which meant she would be claimed by the Alpha who wielded the most power. And they would probably expect you to marry one of their sons.
And if, by some catastrophe, Calvin Malone wound up in charge of the council, Manx might live the rest of her life as his daughter-in-law, which probably wouldnt be much better than life in captivity with Luiz.
Id only avoided a similar fate myself because my father was reluctant to force me into a marriage, and because he remained convinced that I would eventually marry Marc on my own. But all of Manxs close family members had died in a hostile takeover by a neighboring Pride, shortly after she had been kidnapped by Miguel and Luiz. In fact, her disappearance was probably what had weakened her fathers hold on his territorywithout her, he could promise his members no heir.
So Manx and her son were alone in the world and, as with me, my father was the only thing standing between her and an unwanted marriage.
Manxs eyes widened, and the blood drained from her face as that fact sank in. They would force me to
No! I started to take her hand, then thought better of it and snatched mine back. Not like Luiz did. The council would never stand for that.
But was forcing her into marriage any less reprehensible than what Miguel and his brother had done? Sure, she wouldnt technically be raped, and neither Manx nor her children would be in any physical harm. But shed be expected to submit on her own, night after night, to a man she didnt love, so that she and Des would have a safe place to live.
Because if Manx ever refused to bear the next generation, her life would cease to have value, and there would be little motivation for some members of the council to keep her alive. Which was exactly what Id been told during my own trial.
My blood boiled just thinking about it. The North American Prides were no more civilized than our neighbors to the south! We just dressed up barbarism better, cloaking injustice and oppressionand hell, prostitutionin pretty words like duty and honor.
What a load of shit!
Part of me wanted to march downstairs and demand every cat in the house join me in a protest, pushing for a tabbys right to chose her own future. Fighting for it, if necessary. But the other, wiser, more logical part of me knew that merely demanding change would accomplish nothing. And fighting would only put me back on the stand next to Manx.
If I wanted to change the system, Id have to do it from the inside. Jace had told me that, and he was right. I could see that clearly now. And I also knew that it wouldnt happen quickly. Not in time to save Manx. To keep her out of Malones household, wed need a more immediately accessible alternative.
Fortunately, we might have one
My throat ached with all the angry words I was holding back to keep from scaring the crap out of her. So I took a deep breath and slowed my pulse, hoping that if I stayed composed, she would, too. Then I forced a comforting smile and launched into the alternative.
Or, if you like the Di Carlos and they like you, theres a good possibility that you could stay here. I glanced down to find my hands twisted around a handful of satin and stuffing, and had to swallow past the lump in my throat in order to speak. Last summer, they lost their daughter, Sara, shortly before her wedding. Miguel killed her. Theyre hurting pretty badly, so if you decide not to stay here, Id ask you to please break it to them very gently. The last thing they need is more pain.
Vic misses her.
Surprised, I looked up to see that Manxs tears had actually fallen. He talks to you about Sara?
She nodded slowly, wiping moisture from her cheeks. She was smart, and beautiful, and strong. She spit in Miguels face.
Yeah. I laughed and blinked moisture from my own eyes. That was Sara. She was halfway through a degree in economics, and planned to finish before having kids. A decision Id greatly respected.
But now she was dead, and the Di Carlos had no heir, and no way to hold on to their territory once Umberto retired. Or died.
Theyre good people, I said, looking around at the room theyd fixed up for Manx and Des. And who knows? You might decide you actually like Vic or one of his brothers. So maybe just think about it?
I will. Manx nodded earnestly, blotting her long, dark lashes with a tissue from the changing table. If I live.
I wanted to tell her that she would. That everything would be okay, one way or another. But I couldnt swear to it, and I wasnt going to lie to her. And she seemed to respect that.
Faythe, I need aum Manx paused and closed her eyes, probably searching for the right word in English. A favor. She met my eyes again, and the depth of her gaze alone emphasized the importance of whatever she was about to say.
Yes? I held my breath, and could hear both our hearts beating. No, all three of our hearts.
If I die, will you take Desiderio home? To your mother? I have not asked her, but I think she will take him.
For a moment I was so horrified by the necessity of such a question that I couldnt answer. Id known arrangements would have to be made for Des, just in case. But Manx making those arrangements herself, less than twelve hours before the start of her trial?
I could barely even conceive of that kind of courage.
Please, Manx whispered, misinterpreting my silence, her eyes deep gray pools of despair.
Of course I will, I assured her. Relief washed over Manx, and she slumped against the back of the rocker, as if now that we had that out of the way, she could finally relax.
I couldnt remember ever seeing anyone look quite so pleased when contemplating her own death.
That night after dinner, I tried my hardest to keep Donna Di Carlo from putting me up in Saras bedroom. But she wouldnt take no for an answer, and I stopped arguing when I realized she might take my refusal as an insult.
I didnt mean it as one. Saras pictures still topped the dresser, and her old stuffed animals reclined on the bed. Her room looked like a shrine, and I didnt want to disturb it. But her mother was tired of seeing it sit empty and clearly wanted me to get some use out of it.