Chapter Fourteen
“Fuck,” Barrett groused as he turned into the driveway of Jack Welbourn’s house. Jack was the Pack Master of Mississippi, and Barrett considered him a friend.
What he wasn’t looking forward to was seeing the rest of the Weres who were supposed to attend tonight. He knew the meeting of the Southern Pack Masters had to include everyone. Including Edward Boudier from Louisiana.
That fucker had managed to capture some of Barrett’s Guardians out of Arkansas. He’d even had the gall to skin and kill one before feeding his body to the gators.
There wasn’t any substantial evidence linking Boudier to the actual act. Just a whole lot of testimony from Lucien and his brother Lorcan, one of Boudier’s lethal Assassins who had helped Barrett escape out of New Orleans.
He hadn’t heard from Lorcan since the Assassin had ratted out his boss about all the dirty dealings the Louisiana Pack Master was into. After he’d helped get Lucien and the rest of the Arkansas werewolves out of New Orleans, he’d split.
Barrett had been grateful for the help, but he sure as shit didn’t trust Lorcan. As far as he was concerned, he was still connected to the Louisiana pack, and he couldn’t be trusted.
“Barrett.” Jack greeted him at the door. “Come in, come in.”
“Jack. Thank you for hosting this meeting.” Barrett walked into the foyer of the Mississippi plantation. There was something different about Jack. Although they had never been the best of friends, Barrett had always felt he could count on the Were if he needed him. Tonight, something seemed off.
“Found my witch yet, Barrett?” Jack cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. With the Witch of Yazoo City still on the loose, Jack was going to hold Barrett’s feet to the fire until she was found.
“We had her in the southern part of Arkansas. My Guardian is trailing her now.” Or so he hoped. If Jaxon didn’t get that witch bitch soon, Barrett was going to look like an incompetent leader.
That was something he could not afford.
“So you let her go?” Jack’s furrowed brow grew deeper.
“No. She got away.” Barrett turned and faced the Pack Master head on. No way was he going to let Jack intimidate him, despite how much he respected the Were.
“I don’t need to stress to you the amount of trouble she can cause if she’s not caught and returned to the cemetery.”
“No, you don’t.” Barrett glared. “Like I said, my Guardians are on the case. She’ll be found and returned to Mississippi.”
Jack blinked and then gave a final nod. “It’s not like I don’t trust you. But that witch has left more bloodshed in her wake than you can imagine. She’s a blemish on Mississippi and reflects poorly on me.”
“What did she do to be cursed to that cemetery, anyway?” He’d always wondered, and Jack had always avoided the specifics on that topic. Barrett had heard different tales over the years. He’d never put much stock into what others said. He always trusted the truth. The truth was a rare commodity these days.
“Would you believe it has to do with a man?” A slow smirk played at the corners of Jack’s lips.
“Isn’t it always?” All he knew was Ella was dangerous and he needed to bring her in. “Don’t worry about her. I’ve got my best Guardian on her. He’ll get her. I promise you that.”
Jack let out a breath, and Barrett could see the tension slip off the Pack Master’s shoulders.
“I know, Barrett. You’ve never let me down before. You won’t let me down now.”
“Damn right,” he said and then looked around the massive living room. Jack’s home seemed like a house out of Gone with the Wind. The Pack Master had kept his Mississippi plantation home in the same style for as long as Barrett had known him, never updating his home to the latest style.
“Everyone is already here. They’re out back.” Jack put his arm on Barrett’s shoulder and smiled. “I had the outside area redone. New fire pit and living area put in.”
“So you did update something in this old place.” Barrett smirked.
“Damn right I did.” Jack laughed good naturedly. “Come see. Plus, we have drinks.”
“Better not be a cash bar.”
“I resent that statement. You know it’s not hospitable in the South to have a cash bar. Why, any self-respecting Southerner would be shocked and outraged at your statement.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Barrett groused.
Jack opened the back door and waved Barrett out.
Barrett took a breath and stepped outside. The humid Mississippi air stung his lungs and had him immediately on edge.
A small group of gentlemen stood around the fire pit. A lone man stood near the bar where a bartender was busy mixing a drink. Though Barrett couldn’t see his face, he knew who the Were was. Edward Boudier.
He tensed his muscles and had to restrain the wolf inside.
He turned his attention back to the men at the fire and made his way over.
“Barrett. Good to see you could join us.” Charles Price, the Pack Master of Tennessee, smiled and held out his hand. Barrett accepted it in greeting.
“Charles, good to see you, man,” Barrett said. Charles had been amiable, but he was soft on certain topics. He didn’t like to stir the pot, and he sure as shit didn’t like to get involved. He was Switzerland when it came to hard topics like Louisiana.
“Hey, Gerald, how you doing?” Barrett turned to the Pack Master of Alabama and shook his outstretched hand. “Heard Alabama is doing well.”
“It is. Crime is down, and that’s always a good thing.” Gerald Davidson smiled and took a sip of his whiskey. “Heard you got Arkansas in good shape.”
“It’s a constant job, I assure you,” Barrett murmured and glanced over at the bar. “Talked to Boudier?”
“Nah. He’s been hugging the bar since he walked in. He knows better than to come over here and start his shit.” Gerald took another sip. “I don’t want no trouble. But if that fucker tries to start something with me tonight, then I will sure as shit finish it.” He narrowed his eyes.
Barrett grinned. He knew he’d always liked the Alabama Pack Master. He wasn’t much on social graces, but he drew a line in the sand when it came to his priorities.
“I don’t think he’s going after you. I think he has a different Pack Master in his sights.” Barrett knew without a doubt that Boudier was gunning for him. Barrett was getting his game plan ready for when that happened.
“Guess I should go over and say hi,” Barrett growled.
“You do that. And give him a swift kick in the balls for me while you’re at it,” Gerald said.
Barrett walked over to the bar, his gaze trained on Boudier. His gut tightened as he got closer to his enemy. He’d never hated anyone as much as he hated Edward Boudier, and that was before the Were had tried to kill Lucien. When he’d killed Heimy, Barrett’s hatred for the Pack Master of Louisiana had been cemented. It was then he’d spent every waking minute planning his revenge. On how he would take him out. Make him pay for what he’d done. Boudier needed killing. Barrett would be making the entire world safer by taking Boudier out.
No one cared if Boudier lived or died. He was just a waste of space.
“Barrett.” Edward Boudier slowly turned from the bartender and looked at Barrett. “I was wondering when you were going to come over and extend your welcome to me.”
“Fuck off,” Barrett spat out and then glared at the bartender. “Give me a bourbon.”
“Yes, sir.” The bartender nodded and quickly poured the dark liquid into a glass and placed it in front of Barrett.
Barrett placed a ten-dollar bill into the tip jar. The bartender nodded his thanks. He then shot a glare in Boudier’s direction. Barrett knew the Louisiana Pack Master didn’t tip. Boudier had once said that servers didn’t deserve extra money for doing their jobs.
“Ah, your genteel Southern manners always make me feel warm and fuzzy inside, Barrett.”
“How about I rip out your fucking liver. Bet that would get you a raging hard-on.”
Boudier burst out laughing. “Come now, Barrett. We are not at war. We are neighbors, after all.”
Barrett slammed his glass down on the bar. The glass shattered, silencing all the voices around the fire. “We are at war, Boudier. We went to war when you skinned and killed my Guardian.”
“That’s only hearsay. There’s not a shred of evidence to prove that was me or that I ordered that.” He lifted his chin. “Besides, sounds like a disgruntled employee who wanted to paint me in a bad light.” He narrowed his eyes, all his false humor gone.
Now Barrett was seeing the monster behind the mask. Now he was seeing the true Edward Boudier.
“What’s this?” Jack walked over, his expression pinched and pained. “We are here to discuss the future. The future of our Packs. Not to bring up old grievances.”
“Seems Barrett doesn’t know how to have an adult conversation. He’s pouting over some Guardian he lost.”
Barrett’s anger boiled over into every muscle in his body. He plowed his fist right into Boudier’s face, knocking the Were back onto the ground. His head made a sickening crack as it met the concrete.
Gerald Davidson laughed and tossed back his drink.
Charles Price stood up from his seat and glanced around, his face worried. He looked like he was going to be asked to take sides and everyone knew Charles Price didn’t take sides.
“We’re not here to start taking swings at each other,” Jack bellowed. He cut his glare from Boudier back to Barrett.
Barrett wanted to do more than take swings at Boudier. He wanted to gut him.
“He started it,” Boudier whined and then cut his eyes over at Jack. “I gave him no reason to hit me.”
“Skinning and killing one of Barrett’s Guardians is more than a reason to hit you, Boudier.” Gerald wasn’t afraid to stand up to Boudier.
Barrett’s blood boiled.
“There’s no evidence of that claim. And if you keep saying shit like that, I’m going to bring you before a tribunal for slander and libel,” Boudier growled.
“Are you that much of a psychopath that you can kill without feeling?” Barrett snarled. He fisted his hands at his sides. He knew Boudier liked to fight dirty, and he was waiting on the Pack Master to shift into wolf and lunge at him.
Barrett was ready.
“Enough!” Jack slammed his fist down across the counter of the bar. “This is not why I called you here tonight.”
“But shouldn’t it be the real reason we are here? I mean, come on. We can keep dancing around the issues of what Louisiana has done, or we can straight-up address them.” Gerald stood and threw back the rest of his drink. He set the glass down on the edge of the fire pit.
“There are differences and grievances between the states. If we don’t start working together to work them out, then we will end up destroying each other. I, for one, don’t want to see that happen.” Jack gave everyone a hard stare before finally resting his gaze on Barrett.
There would be no working with Louisiana. Not with Boudier in charge. Barrett would never forget what had been done to his Guardians.
“We as Pack Masters of our states need to start working together. We have to, or we will all fail,” Jack pleaded.
“What about justice? What about honor?” Barrett addressed Jack but kept his eyes on Boudier.
“What about having factual evidence?” Boudier glared. “Bringing accusations against another Pack Master without substantial evidence is suicidal.” A ghost of smirk played on his lips.
“I like suicidal.” Barrett leaned in and growled.
“I’d like to take some odds on that one.” Alabama smirked. “I bet ten thousand dollars that Barrett will rip your throat out without even shifting.” He glanced around to Charles and smiled. “Any takers?”
“You’re not helping, Gerald.” Jack snarled. He stood between them and placed a hand on each of their chests. “If you can’t get along with each other, then I’m going to ask you both to leave.”
“Don’t bother.” Barrett shoved Jack’s hand away. “I’ll leave.” He shot Boudier a glare and headed for the house. Quick footsteps followed behind him.
He didn’t need to turn to know that it was Jack.
“The only thing I will apologize is for trying to fight him on your property. I should have waited until it was just the two of us before taking his ass out.” Barrett stormed through the house and headed straight for the front door.
“Barrett.”
He tensed at the sound of his name. He took a deep breath before turning around to his old friend’s face.
“This situation is way out of hand.” Jack leaned in and lowered his voice. “I know you’re upset about Heimy, but think of the best for the majority.”
He curled his fingers into fists. “Fuck yeah, I’m upset about Heimy. I’m upset about Mitchell and Lucien too.” He cocked his head. “Do you know how long it took Lucien to heal from his scars? And for his mate Catty to see him like that? To see his flesh flayed from his body? What about their justice?”
Jack swallowed and licked his lips.
For the first time, Barrett got an uneasy feeling about the Mississippi Pack Master.
“What happened is very… unfortunate. For all involved.” Jack admitted.
His unease grew tenfold.
Barrett took a step back. “Unfortunate?” He turned to leave, but Jack grabbed his arm.
He rounded on the older male.
“What’s wrong with you, Jack? This isn’t like you. You used to be a male of great respect, of great integrity. The Pack Master I knew would demand immediate justice.”
Jack shook his head. “We took a vote, and the Pack Masters didn’t have enough votes for an investigation into the alleged incident.”
“What vote? I didn’t hear about a vote. Why wasn’t I told?” Barrett asked.
“Because since you filed the complaint, you can’t vote. Boudier was disqualified as well. It came down between Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Mississippi. You only had one vote in your favor.” Jack shook his head.
“Let me guess who sided with me. Alabama.” Barrett swallowed back the knot that had developed in the back of his throat.
“Listen, just let me talk to the other Pack Masters without Boudier around. I know Kentucky would like to see Boudier gone, but he feels like he doesn’t want to start trouble since Boudier has left his state alone. Tennessee isn’t going to go up against Edward Boudier for anything.”
“What about you, Jack?” Barrett cocked his head. “Where do you stand in all this?”
Jack’s eyes bulged. “You know where I stand. How can you ask me that?”
“Before I walked in here tonight, I would have sworn that you were on the right side of all this. That you were on my side. But now, I’m not so sure.”
Jack took a step back and pursed his lips. “I take great offense at your statement, Barrett. I’ve always been a good friend and a supporter of the state of Arkansas. I refrained from voting because I figured it would be a conflict of interest since everyone knows I’m your friend.” He lifted his chin.
“Yeah. Well, things change. People grow weary of doing the right thing. They want to do the easy thing.” Barrett walked through the front door and slammed it behind him.