Praise for the novels of New York Times bestselling author
RACHEL VINCENT
I liked the character and loved the action. I look forward to reading the next book in the series.
Charlaine Harris, author of the Sookie Stackhouse novels
Compelling and edgy, dark and evocative, Stray is a must read! I loved it from beginning to end.
New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter
Vincents urban fantasy series features a well-thought-out vision of werecat social structure as well as a heroine who insists on carving her own path, even if it means breaking some of her societys most sacred taboos.
Library Journal
I had trouble putting this book down. Every time I said I was going to read just one more chapter, Id find myself three chapters later.
Bitten by Books
Vincent continues to impress with the freshness of her approach and voice. Action and intrigue abound and Faythe is still a delight.
RT Book Reviews
Find out more about Rachel Vincent by visiting mirabooks.co.uk/rachelvincent and read Rachels blog at urbanfantasy.blogspot.com
Shifters series
STRAY
ROGUE
PRIDE
PREY
SHIFT
Coming soon
ALPHA
Shift
Rachel Vincent
www.mirabooks.co.uk
To No.1, who takes care of everything I forget and makes it possible for me to do what I love. Thank you.
Acknowledgements
Thanks first of all to my critique partner, Rinda Elliott, whose suggestion changed the last third of this bookfor the better. Thanks for showing me the forest, in spite of the trees.
Thanks to Elizabeth Mazer and everyone at MIRA for all the behind-the-scenes work it takes to turn a manuscript into a book.
Thanks to my editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey, for her patience and dedication.
Thanks to my agent, Miriam Kriss, who makes things happen.
And thank you so much to the readers who have hung in there with Faythe and her Pride. Your words of praise and encouragementand even the occasional distraught letter of disbeliefkeep me writing, determined to make each book better than the last.
One
You should leave. Now. My fathers growl of warning resonated in some dark, primal part of me, and suddenly I craved torn flesh and fresh blood glistening in moonlight. Wave after wave of bloodlust crashed over me and I swayed beneath the onslaught, struggling to control it. We would have justice for Ethan. But this was not the time. Not the place.
Though my fathers office practically sizzled with the rage that flowed through me and my fellow enforcers, Paul Blackwell, acting head of the Territorial Council, seemed completely unaffected. I watched him from my place near the closed office door, both armsmy right still in a castcrossed over my chest.
Blackwell planted his old-fashioned wooden cane firmly on the Oriental rug and leaned on it with both hands. Now, Greg, calm downIm only asking you to consider the greater good, which is exactly what you claim youll honor, if youre reinstated as council chairman.
Unfortunately, that seemed less likely with each passing day. In the week since wed buried my brother, Nick Davidson had announced his support of Calvin Malone as council chair, which meant that my father now needed the last remaining votefrom Jerold Pierce, my fellow enforcer Parkers dadjust to tie everything up.
And a tie wasnt good enough. We needed a clear victory.
My father sat in his wing chair at the end of the rug, and his refusal to rise wason the surfacean uncharacteristic show of disrespect toward a fellow Alpha. But I knew him well enough to understand the truth: if he stood, he might lose his temper. Youre asking me to let my sons murder go unavenged. His voice was as low and dangerous as Id ever heard it, and I swear I felt the rumble deep in my bones. It echoed the ache in my heart.
Im asking you not to start a war. Blackwell stood calm and steady, which must have taken substantial self-control, considering my fathers comparative youth and bulk. And his obvious rage. Even in his late fifties, Greg Sanders, Alpha of the south-central Pride and my father, was a formidable force.
My dad growled again. Calvin Malone started this, and you damn well know it.
Blackwell sighed and glanced around the room, and as his tired gaze skirted the three other Alphas grouped near the bar and the scattering of enforcers along the walls, I got the distinct impression that he would much rather have been alone with my father.
The other Alphas and two enforcers apiece had arrived early that morning for one last strategy meeting before the south-central Pride and our allies launched the first full-scale werecat offensive the U.S. had seen in more than six decades. It was Saturday. We planned to attack in three daysjust after sundown on Tuesday night. Anticipation hummed in the air around us, buzzing like electricity in my ears, pulsing like passion in my veins.
We could already feel the blows, every last one of us. We could taste the blood, and hear the screams that would soon pierce the still, cold February night. We were living on the promise of violence in answer to violence, and several of the toms around me teetered on the thin edge of bloodlust, riding adrenaline like the crest of a lethal wave.
Surely Blackwell had known his mission was a failure the moment he walked into the house.
Our allies were expected, but Paul Blackwells arrival had been a total surprise. Just after lunch, hed pulled into the driveway in a rental car driven by his grandson, a cane in the old mans hand, determination in his step. But that wouldnt be enough, and neither would the authority of the Territorial Council, which he wore like a badge of honor. Or more like a badge of shame, considering that nearly half of the councils members were present, and not one looked happy to see him.
Blackwell shuffled one foot on the carpet and closed his eyes, as if gathering his thoughts, then his heavy gaze landed on my father again. Greg, no one is happy about what happened to Ethan, least of all me. Calvin has been formally reprimanded, and the enforcers involved the surviving ones, presumably have been suspended from duty indefinitely, pending an investigation.
Whos leading this investigation? My uncle Rick asked from across the room, a half-full glass of brandy held near his chest. And who will be allowed as witnesses? Do you honestly think the council is capable of justice, or even impartiality, in its current state?
Blackwell twisted awkwardly toward my unclemy mothers older brother. Frankly, I think the current state of the council is nothing short of a disaster. But abandoning the very order that defines us is no way to repair the cracks that have developed in our foundation. Then he turned to face my dad again. Fortunately, I believe you dealt with the actual guilty party yourself.
In fact, my father had torn out Ethans murderers throat before my brother had even breathed his last. The offending tom was disposed of in the industrial incinerator behind our barn, his ashes dumped unceremoniously on the ground several feet from the furnace, then stomped into the dirt by everyone who tread over them.
But that small act of revenge did little to ease the blazing wrath consuming all of us.
Calvin Malone is ultimately responsible for Ethans death, and he will pay that price. My fathers words came out cold, as if he didnt feel a word hed said. But on my right, Marcs hands clenched into fists at his sides, and Jace went stiff on my left. From the couch, Michael was nodding grimly. We were ready. Vengeance was overdue.
The council has taken official action on this matter, Blackwell continued. I know youre not satisfied by that action, and thats understandable, but if you strike at Malone after hes accepted censure, youll be throwing the first punch.
Are we children, playing this blame game? My father finally rose from his chair, and Blackwell had to look up to meet his fury. Are you so focused on whos at fault that you cant see the larger picture? Calvin Malone is out of control, and if the council cant rein him in, we will.
On the other side of the room, Uncle Rick, Umberto Di Carlo, and Ed Taylor nodded in solidarity. Theyd thrown their support behind my father and pledged their manpower to fight alongside us.
The larger picture is exactly what Im looking at. Blackwell held his ground as my father stalked toward him. Youre talking about civil war. How does that benefit the greater good? He glanced down at his cane, but when he looked up, resolve straightened the old mans thin, hunched spine. My eyes may be old and weak, but I see this clearly, Greg. The U.S. Prides cannot afford to go to war.
My father met his gaze steadily. Neither can they afford to be led by Calvin Malone. He stepped around the older Alpha and took the glass his brother-in-law held out to him, sipping from it as Blackwell turned slowly, leaning on his cane while he scanned the room.
The council chairs gaze fell finally on my mother, who sat stiff and straight in a leather wing chair in one corner, half-hidden by the shadows. Long before I was born, shed sat on the council, but I couldnt remember her ever taking active part in council business during my lifetime. Yet no one had objected when shed filed into the room behind our unexpected guest, after showing him into the office.
Karen Blackwell said, and the irony of his appeal to her irritated me like a backward stroke of my fur. The old mans record on gender equality was solidly con, yet he had the nerve to address my mother in her own home. Would you really send your sons to die at war, if it could possibly be avoided?
My mothers eyes flashed in anger, and my breath caught in my throat. She stood slowly, and every face in the room turned toward her. In case you havent noticed, Paul, I dont have to send my children to war to watch them die. Less than two weeks ago, Ethan was murdered on our own land, the result of an action you sanctioned. She stepped forward, arms crossed over her chest, and suddenly the resemblance between me and my mother was downright scary. Yet you stand here, in my own house, asking me to speak against justice for his death? Asking my support for a council leader who stands for everything I hate? Youre a bigger fool than Malone.
Blackwell stared, obviously at a loss for words, and the tingle of delight racing up my spine could barely be contained.
And my mother wasnt done. Furthermore, if Calvin Malone takes over the council, the status quo will sink to an all-new low. What makes you think I want you, or him, or any other man to tell my daughter when and whom she should marry, and how many children she should bear? Yes, I want to see Faythe married my mother glanced at me briefly but thats because I see in hersometimes deep down in herthe same fierce, protective streak I feel for my own children. And because I want to see her happy. Thats a mothers right. But it is not your right. And you wont convince a single soul here that you bear the least bit of concern for her happiness.
Karen Blackwell started, but my mom shook her head firmly.
I squirmed, in both embarrassment and pride, but my attention never wavered from my mothers porcelain mask of fury and indignation. Listen closelyI wont say this again. She took another step forward, her index finger pointed at the councils senior member, and those spine-chills shot up my arms. Do not mistake my even temper and my contribution to the next generation of our species as either docility or weakness. It is that very maternal instinct youre appealing to that fuels my need for vengeance on my sons behalf, and I assure you that need is every bit as great, as driving, as my husbands.
Now, she continued, when Blackwells wrinkled jaw actually went slack. You are welcome here as a guest. But if you ever again insult me or any other member of my household, I will personally show you the exit.
With that, my mother tucked a chin-length strand of gray hair behind one ear and strode purposefully toward the door, leaving the rest of us to stare after her in astonishment. Except for my father. His expression shone with pride so fierce that if he hadnt still been mourning the loss of a son, I was sure he would have called for a toast.
Silence reigned in my fathers office, but for the clicking of my mothers sensibly low heels on the hardwood. Without looking back, or making eye contact with anyone, she pulled open the doorand almost collided with a pint-size tabby cat.
Kaci, whats wrong? My mother took her by the shoulder and guided her away from the office, obviously assuming shed been about to knock on the door. But I knew better. Kaci wasnt knocking; she was eavesdropping.
At least, she was trying. But I could have told her from personal experience that she wouldnt have much luck. The office door was solid oak and beneath the Sheetrock, the walls were cinder block and windowless. While those features didnt actually soundproof the room, they rendered individual words spoken inside nearly impossible to understand. Even with a werecats enhanced hearing.
I Kaci faltered, glancing at me for help. But I only smiled, enjoying seeing someone else in the hot seat for once. You guysre talking about me, arent you? If you are, I have a right to know.
My mom smiled. Your name hasnt come up.
Yet. But now that Blackwell had been shot down on the uneasy-peace front, I had no doubt hed start in about Kaci. Calvin Malone was desperate to place her with a Pride that supported his bid for control of the council. His own Pride, if he could possibly swing it. In fact, Ethan had died defending Kaci from an attempt to forcibly remove her from our east Texas ranch.
And Kaci knew that.
Whats going on, then? Is this about Ethan? Her chin quivered as she spoke, her gaze flitting from face to solemn face in search of answers, and my heart broke all over again.
Kaci had been closer to Ethan and Jace than to any of the other toms, and though shed known him less than three months, she was taking my brothers death every bit as hard as the rest of us. Maybe worse. At thirteen, Kaci had already been tragically overexposed to death and underexposed to counseling. And in addition to the grief and anger the rest of us suffered, she felt guilty because Ethan had died defending her.