Chapter 35
The day got off to a pretty damned good start. With the longing for Savon evaporated, Jay felt like he could take life by the reins and move on.
First, Killian needed to die. And if Nate did the honors, that left Jay an escape from Silvertail Ridge. He’d been in town for five years and no one sparked anything inside until Savon walked into his bar. If he were to find a mate, it would be somewhere else.
Canagan waltzed into the bar, while it was still closed. The doors had been locked, but she could always get past that. “Whose side are you on?” she demanded.
Jay looked up. “Mine, as always.” He kept an eye on her. He didn’t want to resort to magic and give away what he was, or his immunity to the bitch, but he had a feeling it might be coming to that.
“You don’t seem very interested in Killian at present. Or Nate for that matter. I hear he stole Savon from you.”
“Savon was never mine. And Killian isn’t around. Quite honestly, I’m beginning to wonder why I’m still here.”
“You don’t need to be.” She crossed the distance. “You’re no longer useful. Your lust for revenge has died off.”
“Can’t kill Killian if he’s not on this plane. Now think about this, Canagan. Out of all the people I know who could find him, it would be you—if he were in this realm.”
She paused, her head tipping. “What do you think you know?”
Smirking, Jay leaned against the counter and bent to look into her eyes. “His body never shifted back to human when he died. In fact, it’s still a wolf in that coffin. I looked. He’s not dead. But where is he? Hopefully, someone is torturing him. But right now, I can’t get to him, and I don’t really care.”
“You don’t want to be Alpha?” she protested.
“What? You really believe I want to tie myself to a bunch of disloyal beasts? Nate isn’t his father. He has his own beef with the bastard. As long as Killian winds up dead in the long run I don’t really care who kills him. Especially if it means I won’t be stuck here forever.”
“So you aren’t on his side either?”
“Told you, I’m on my side.”
She took a seat at the counter and leaned toward Jay. “You were ready to take the pack before Savon waltzed in here.”
His doubts about taking the pack started before Savon showed back up.
Damn near three months ago, after killing Killian’s enraged wolf—or so he thought, he shifted back from full wolf and stood over the wolf’s body.
Nothing changed.
Not a damned thing.
The wolves surrounding the corpse howled, but not for him. No magic shifted. Nothing.
Nate stood his ground, fully human, though the moon was coming. The majority of the other werewolves had already shifted.
Jay forced a change to half-beast, shooting up, towering above Nate, who only lifted a single brow, clearly unimpressed.
“I challenge you,” Jay seethed.
“Want to wait until you have time to heal the damage?” Nate nodded at his hip.
“No. You don’t have shit on me,” Jay growled.
Nate stripped off his dress shirt and pulled off the undershirt. Muscle rippled. He dropped them on the ground and smirked. “Go ahead, underestimate me. Killian always did.” He opened his pants, shoving them down thick, muscular thighs.
Not merely a doctor. The guy worked out, and Jay hadn’t had any inkling. Didn’t matter. He’d spent hundreds of years honing his skills. This guy had a few decades behind him.
Nate shifted, faster than Jay expected. His height shot up, his hands forming deadly claws. He stepped forward, ready for battle.
Jay started to rethink the plan, but it was too late for that. The challenge was issued. Time to man up and tear down Killian’s pup. He struck out.
Nate rolled to the side and came up, driving his claws into his thigh, tearing down the muscle. He stepped back, waiting.
Agony tore a scream of hatred from him. He landed on his knees. “One well-timed strike, that’s it,” Jay snarled.
Nate moved forward, and Jay lifted an arm to block him. Nate changed directions and spun, grabbing Jay under the ribs, lifting him up as razor sharp edges bit deep.
Jay hit the ground hard, the air leaving his lungs as blood flowed freely from his thigh, abdomen, and arm.
Nate straddled his chest and grabbed his throat. “Submit and this is over. My fight is not with you.”
Two choices. Let Nate kill him, or step down.
“You win,” Jay answered, staring back at him, fully expecting the bastard to kill him anyway. Killian would have.
Nate stood and stepped back far enough he could assess the damage.
“Shift back to wolf. I left no permanent damage. But don’t try that shit again.”
Jay dipped his head, closing his eyes.
Still, the alpha power didn’t shift. Nate was no more Alpha than him, which left them in a precarious position.
The doctor had gained his respect that night.
“You know, Nate might be what this town needs.”
“No. Savon will tear the control from him.”
“Like you want to attempt with me?” Jay snorted. “I’m amazed you haven’t realized that you don’t control me. You never have, and you can’t.”
She snorted. “One day, that will change.”
“No, because I’m smarter than Killian. I want nothing from you.”
She smiled coldly. “Then you’ll die with Nate and his bitch.” She slid from the seat, and he lifted a hand, breathing the spell to track her.
Sooner or later, something big was going to happen. He wanted to make sure the right people were warned. Which was why he wanted to stay in the bar and glean any information he could.
* * * *
Bran carried the tray of food down to the basement cell. The mages had come by to work some fancy magic. No sound penetrated past the door, which was good, because the fucker had taken to howling all night every night, and most of the day, when he wasn’t passed out.
For some reason, the fucker wasn’t healing. And Bran noticed something. There was a dark patch on his chest that was slowly spreading. The sweet cloying scent of death wafted from the asshole.
He slid the food into the cell. “Why aren’t you healing?”
Clay glared at him. “Why the fuck do you care?”
“We may be on different sides, but we have no intention of letting you suffer if we can fix it. So, what’s going on?”
He rubbed at his chest, well above where Nate had damaged him. “Started before you brought me down.”
“Canagan?”
He closed his eyes. “She wants Killian gone.”
“So does everyone else,” Bran snapped. “Canagan is out for more than freeing the pack of Killian. And I honestly believe she wants to rule through someone else.”
“But—but no. She wouldn’t.”
“She would. How old is she? Killian made her what she is. A vindictive bitch, and she may have every right to want revenge on the bastard, just like every other person in this town, but that doesn’t mean her way is right. So what the fuck is going on?”
He leaned against the wall. His eyes slid to the food. “She wants something, but I don’t know what anymore.”
“We’re going to help you. We’ll brew something to knock your ass out, because I don’t trust you.”
“Never have,” Clay snarled. “Why should I trust you?” He drank down the tea in the glass.
Bran watched as his eyelids drooped.
“Don’t have to.”
Clay slid to the side.
Bran let out a relived sigh and opened the door for Fran.
Stepping inside, she eyed Clay. “You’re sure he’s really out?”
“Yeah, I’m positive. You don’t have to do this.”
“I do, if I want things to be right in town. If I fix this for him, maybe we gain his trust, and some of the other wolves. I’ve heard rumors that Canagan is swaying more to her side. And with Jay not playing her games anymore, she’s getting desperate. Which is why I’m wondering why you all let Nate and Savon bail. Seems to be shitty timing.”
“Nate has a point. Killian isn’t here to take the pack from. And right now, we have to wait until Savon is recovered before we go after them. And her old landlord brought someone to help train her sorcerer side.”
“Where is Killian, then?”
“Not on this fucking plane, or we could have finished this battle already.”
“Huh? How?”
“Shit, um…why don’t you take care of the asshole over there, then we can discuss the rest of that. Especially since we may need your talents to make sure Nate can properly challenge the fucker.”
Frannie’s mouth popped open. “He’s finally going to challenge him.”
“Yup. He’s ready and has even more motivation than before.”
He opened the door and stepped in. “Need him shackled?”
“Nah, I’ll keep him under with a spell on top of the potion.” She stepped in, and he followed, still worried Clay might wake up too soon.