Kaci

I took the 215 loop around the south side of Las Vegas and into Henderson to rent a car, because that would make it look like we were headed to Phoenix, for whatever good that would do. I wasn’t convinced anyone would believe we were actually headed to the Sky Harbor airport. But I was convinced they would try to cover all their bases.

While Justus was inside the rental place, I sat in Jared’s car with the engine running, staring at all the missed calls and unanswered messages from Faythe and Marc.

They were the only reason I’d made it out of the woods alive, when they’d found me in Montana. I owed them an explanation. Or at least the knowledge that I was okay.

I called Faythe’s name to call her back, and she answered on the second ring. “Kaci?” The baby was crying close to the phone, but I could hear the fear in Faythe’s voice, even over the noise. She sounded scared to death.

My guilt suddenly felt like an ocean I was drowning in.

“Yeah. It’s me.”

“Here, take baby Ethan,” Faythe said over the line. “It’s her.”

“I got him,” Karen Sanders said, and the sound of a crying infant faded into the background.

“Kaci, where the hell are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Really. I’m calling to tell you not to worry.”

“You…?” A door slammed, and the crying got even softer. Leather creaked as Faythe sank into the desk chair in her office. The same one her father had sat in, before he’d died. She couldn’t bring herself to replace it, even though the upholstery was starting to wear out. “Do you have any idea how scared we’ve been?”

“Yes, and I’m sorry. My intent wasn’t to scare anyone.”

“You lied to me.”

“Again, I’m really sorry.” I propped my elbow against the driver’s side window and cradled my forehead in my hand. “But I had to get out of there.”

“Where are you?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Is Justus there with you?”

“Yes, but he’s…busy. He can’t hear us.”

“Vic said you married him. What the hell is going on, Kaci? You ran off to Las Vegas to elope?”

“No! That just kind of happened. It’s complicated.”

“Try me,” she insisted. “I have a two-year-old, a two-month-old and a chronic sleep deficit. I’m knocking out crises left and right, so one more can’t hurt. What’s going on, Kaci?”

“It was just supposed to be a vacation. He had a bunch of airline miles, and I caught him sneaking out, so I told him that if he didn’t take me with him, I’d turn him in. I’ve never been to Las Vegas. I’ve never been anywhere, really, and I’m an adult now, so…”

“Eighteen is not grown. It’s this weird sort of in-between state, where—”

“You had a wedding when you were eighteen.”

“Yes, but I left my groom at the altar.”

“Are you saying that was a mistake? That you should have gotten married at eighteen?”

She groaned over the phone. “No. I was too young to know what I wanted at the time, and if I’d gotten married then, I probably always would have wondered if I’d missed out on something. On my youth. So, I seized an opportunity.”

“I’ve heard this story. You seized that opportunity by fleeing the territory. That’s exactly what I did. Only I was going to come back. It was just supposed to be a vacation.”

“Was?” She sounded so exhausted. “What does that mean?”

“Okay, listen, Faythe, I’m going to come home, but I need your help.”

There was a beat of silence. Then… “Tell me what’s going on, and I’ll do my best.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I’m furious, Kaci. I’m not gonna lie about that. But I remember what it was like to be eighteen, and I’m choosing to believe that you have a good reason for whatever the hell you’re doing. So please, please, prove me right.”

I sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment. “Faythe, I like him. Justus. I mean I really, really like him.”

“Oh, so that’s why you got married!” Springs groaned as she leaned back in her chair. “You really like him!”

“The sarcasm isn’t necessary,” I snapped.

Faythe’s chair springs groaned again. “Yet that seems to be the only language I’m capable of speaking after three hours of sleep.”

“Fine.” Through the windshield, I could see Justus still standing at the rental counter. He appeared to be haggling with the clerk. “Justus knows they’re going to execute him, Faythe. He overheard something in the guest house—something Vic heard through the grapevine—and he knows he doesn’t have a chance. He was going to run. He’s still going to run, and I told him I’d help him.”

“You don’t sound like that’s what you want to do.”

“The wedding was a mistake,” I admitted. “Probably. Maybe. But the rest of this wasn’t. Justus doesn’t think of me as a kid, like you and Marc and Jace do, or as a freak, like everyone else does. He likes me. He looks at me like there are no other girls in the world. He kisses me like I’m the only thing he could ever want. He kissed me this morning before I’d brushed my teeth!”

“Now that’s commitment,” Faythe said, a hint of a smile in her voice.

And though I would never have said the rest of it to her, Justus was a total gentleman while I was passed out, not because that was the decent thing to do, or because deep down he knew it was right, but because he would never touch a girl who wasn’t just as into touching and being touched as he was.

And I couldn’t stand the thought of him touching someone else. Ever.

“Married or not, I want to give this a chance,” I told her. “I want to be with him and at least see if this could work. But I want to be with him here. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life running from the council, and that’s what it would be, if I went with him.”

“Oh, honey, that’s what it would be because you went with him.”

I frowned at Jared’s dashboard. “What?”

“Kaci, if he flees the country, I highly doubt the council will go after him.”

“Why not?”

“Because if the tribunal finds him guilty, they’ll want to be rid of him, but they won’t really care how that happens. Not enough to spend money and manpower chasing him across the globe, anyway. If you let him run, he’ll probably be fine. But if you go with him? You, they’ll chase to the ends of the earth.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, they won’t. I’m the man-eater.”

She sighed. “Okay, I know that’s what some of the younger, stupider enforcers are saying, but eventually one of them is going to get to know you and realize you’re awesome. I know that. The council knows that. Eventually—”

“Eventually.” A harsh bark of laughter exploded from my throat. “I don’t need ‘eventually’ from a hypothetical tom who may one day decide I’m okay, probably only because some Alpha has convinced him that I’m a valuable procreation asset. Justus is offering me forever, right now. Just as I am.” And as crazy as it sounded, I wanted that forever.

Or at least the possibility of it.

I’d rather have a crazy, sudden marriage to a guy who listens when I talk and kisses me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters than hang my entire future on the chance that eventually some asshole who only thinks of me as a traumatized cannibal might decide I’m good enough to carry his children. If all the other tabbies are taken.

Fuck “eventually.” I’m on board with forever.

“Fair enough,” Faythe said. “You have the right to make your own choices.” Though it sounded like what she actually meant was the right to make my own mistakes. “But what I’m telling you is that the council will not want to lose you. For the record, I don’t want to lose you either, but for a totally different reason. What you need to understand is that if you run, they will come after you.”

I shrugged, though she obviously couldn’t see that over the phone. “Then I’ll defect. Legally. Just like Abby did. I’ll renounce all loyalty to and claims of assistance from the Pride and Justus and I can go wherever we want.” As long as we weren’t trespassing on someone else’s territory.

“I really wish you wouldn’t, but if you insist, then yes, you’re free to do that. In just under three years.”

“What?” I blinked, but the dashboard refused to come into focus. “No one said anything about a waiting period. Abby didn’t have to wait. Neither did Robyn.”

“Robyn was never a member of any of the US Prides, so technically she didn’t have to defect in order to leave—she had to negotiate a way out of her plea bargain. But even if she’d been a pride member, she could have defected just like Abby did, because they’re both twenty-two. You’re only eighteen, and the Prides don’t consider you an adult in that regard until you’re twenty-one.”

“That’s crap! No one ever told me that!”

“It’s not exactly a topic that comes up over dinner. But that’s how my father had the right to bring me back, when I ran out on my wedding. He couldn’t make me get married—not that he would have tried—but he could keep me in the Pride. And in the territory.”

“You’re saying eighteen is old enough to get married, but not old enough to defect?” I aimed the air vent at my face, but the cold air did nothing to temper my anger. “What kind of sense does that make?”

“None, I’m afraid,” Faythe admitted. “But it’s no more inconsistent than several human laws.”

“I know,” I huffed. “I just left a hotel where I wasn’t even allowed onto the casino floor to watch.”

“Exactly. So, if you really want to be with Justus, you’re going to have to convince him to stay here.”

“And stand trial.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Well, that brings me back to the help I mentioned. A favor, really. To help me come home.”

“What can I do?” Faythe asked, her voice thin with a fragile thread of hope.

“It sounds like two of the three Alphas on the tribunal are going to vote against Justus. Which means he only needs to gain one more vote, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Who’s on the tribunal? You must know.”

“The names are drawn at random, typically excluding family members or Alphas who might have obvious bias. Which, in this case, is Marc and me, since we’re Justus’s Alphas.”

The door to the rental place opened and Justus came out swinging a keyring around his index finger. Grinning like a fool.

“Faythe, I have to go. I’ll call you right back.”

“Why—”

“I can’t tell you anything else. But I’ll call you back in a few.” I hung up the phone just as Justus got to the car. He motioned for me to roll the window down, so I pressed the button.

“Got it.” He held the keys up for me to see. “Can you follow me down the road? I thought we could grab some tacos or something and leave Jared’s car in the restaurant lot, then head out. We need to go fast, though. If Titus is monitoring my card, he probably already knows where we are.”

“Yeah. Lead the way.”

“It’s that little white one on the end.” He pointed to the car on the last row of the small rental lot.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

While Justus got in the rental and pulled out of the parking space, I called Faythe on speaker phone.

“It’s me again,” I said when she answered.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” I pulled out of my parking spot and followed Justus onto the road. “You didn’t think I’d call back, did you?”

“Of course I did.” The tone of Faythe’s voice told me she was rolling her eyes. “You still need my help. Are you driving somewhere? Is Justus with you?”

“Yes, I’m driving. And yes, he’s with me, but he can’t hear us. And that’s all I’m telling you.”

“Kaci—”

“I just… Faythe, I need you to know that I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“By breaking all the rules?”

“I learned from the best.”

Faythe actually chuckled. “Touché.”

“We both know the right thing isn’t always the legal thing, and it’s not right that they’re going to execute Justus for infecting people, when he didn’t even know that’s what he was doing. Or for killing Drew, when no one has ever deserved to die as much as that bastard did.”

“I don’t know,” Faythe mused. “Everyone I’ve had to kill deserved to die.”

“Then you should understand.” I flicked on my blinker to change lanes behind the white rental car. “You know what Drew did to Justus. What he manipulated Justus into doing.”

“Yes.” She exhaled heavily with the admission. “And sometimes I regret setting quite such an intrepid example for the younger generation of tabbies. Though I fully admit that’s not a statement I ever anticipated saying.”

“I think you did a great job.” Up ahead, Justus’s right blinker came on, fifty feet ahead of the taco place he was obviously leading me toward.

“Thanks. Full disclosure, though—you know I’m still trying to find you and bring you home.”

“Understood. That’s your job. I committed a crime.” Or two. “But while you’re unleashing your deductive reasoning, analyzing everything I’ve said, could you please tell me who’s on the tribunal?”

“Yes. Bert Di Carlo, Ed Taylor, and Paul Blackwell.”

“Shit,” I breathed as Justus pulled into the drive-thru lane and motioned for me to park. And for once, Faythe made no objection to my language. Which only underlined how tired she must have been. “Obviously, Di Carlo is with us.” He’d been one of the South-Central’s strongest allies since long before I joined the Pride. “And Blackwell is staunchly anti-stray. So Ed Taylor’s the swing vote?” I guessed as I pulled into an empty space at the back of the lot, where people were less likely to notice an abandoned vehicle. In case it took Jared longer than we expected to find his car.

“There isn’t a swing vote. Taylor’s been very clear with Marc that he’s planning to vote to convict.” Which meant that my Alphas had already known what Justus had overheard from Vic.

“But he hasn’t even heard the evidence yet!”

“There is no evidence. There’s only Justus’s testimony, and everyone’s already heard what he did and why.” Faythe’s chair creaked again, then I heard footsteps as she began pacing across her office floor. “Taylor insists he has sympathy for the position that Justus was in, but that we have to establish a hard no-tolerance policy on murders—including unauthorized executions. Especially where they could expose us to the public. Especially in the free zone. Especially if we’re truly considering officially acknowledging the Mississippi Valley Pride. Because the new Pride would be expected to follow our laws to a T.” Faythe stopped pacing, and the silence over the line was eerie. “It’s kind of a brilliant position to take, politically speaking. He’s indicating that he might support the acceptance of the new Pride, which keeps him in good graces with those of us supporting Titus. But at the same time, he’s making it clear that he won’t just let strays ‘run amok.’ Which keeps the old guard, like Blackwell and Mitchell, happy.”

“But screws Justus over completely.”

“While potentially helping his brother out,” Faythe conceded.

“Then I have to convince him to change his vote.” I shrugged at myself in the rearview mirror. “No big deal.” As if I call Alphas out of the blue and ask them for favors every day. “Okay, thanks, Faythe. I gotta go.”

“Wait!” The sound of her footsteps on hardwood told me she was pacing again, and the familiar echo made me surprisingly homesick.

“What?”

“I just…” She took a deep breath, then started over. “I know you have to do this. I understand that much. But when it’s over—when you’ve done whatever you can for Justus—please come back home. Even if you two don’t get the happy ending you’re hoping for. Especially if you don’t get that. I love you, and I can’t stand the thought of you out there all alone, dealing with heartbreak, or loss, or even just a broken-down car or a dead cell phone. So when you’re done, if we haven’t found you yet…please come home.”

I wanted to be able to tell her I would. To promise her that I would be okay. But no matter how young she considered me to be, I was old enough to understand that life doesn’t come with promises. Sometimes things go wrong.

Sometimes home isn’t where you always thought it would be.

So, I settled for, “I’ll try. And I promise that I will call you again. That’s the best I can do right now.”

Faythe sniffled into my ear, and tears blurred the world around me. “Little Greg and the baby are my life. You know that. But you made me a mother, Kaci. You chose me over my mom, when you lost yours, even though I had no experience. Even though I was only a decade older than you. You and I got thrown into the deep end of this thing together, sink or swim, and we made it. I will always be here for you. No matter what happens. Please tell me you understand that.”

“I do,” I said, and she sniffled again. “But I have to go now. I love you.”

“Love you too, Kitten.”

I hung up the phone. Then I wiped tears from my eyes as Justus pulled into the parking spot next to mine.

I stuck Jared’s keys between his sun visor and the roof, then locked his car on my way out of it.

“What’s wrong?” Justus asked as I slid into the front passenger’s seat of the rental.

“Nothing. I just…” I took the fast food bag he held out and set it in my lap. “I just spoke to Faythe, and it got a little emotional.”

“She tried to convince you to come home?”

“Of course. But she wasn’t unreasonable about it.” Evidently her definition of “adult” was closer to mine than to the council’s.

“What’d she say?”

“She told me who’s on the tribunal.”

Justus shifted into reverse and backed out of the parking space.

“Don’t you want to know?” I opened the paper sack on my lap and pulled out a taco. Crispy shell with grilled chicken.

“It doesn’t matter,” Justus insisted as he turned onto the road. “Because I’m not going. Can you get me directions?”

I set the bag on the center console and the taco on my lap, then started the GPS app on my phone. “What if I could get you the vote you need?”

He pulled us to a stop at a red light and turned to me, skepticism deepening the lines of his frown. “Can you?”

“Maybe. Hopefully.” I picked up my taco. “I’m willing to try.”

The light turned green and I took a bite.

“Sure. Give it a shot.” We rolled through the intersection and Justus moved into the left-hand lane. “If you can get me a vote before we get to Denver, I guess I don’t have to get on the plane.” He shrugged. “What do I have to lose, right?”

“Yeah. Taco?”

“I can’t eat that while I drive, but there’s a burrito at the bottom,” he said. I dug for it, then tore off the top half of the wrapper and handed it to him. “So, who’s on the tribunal? What’s the plan?”

“Well, it’s a random draw, but you drew a pretty even hand. Which makes sense, considering that the council is pretty evenly split on the subject of strays. Paul Blackwell will never vote in your favor. He’ll go to his grave shouting that strays have no place in the world. In fact, many of us have been waiting for that very event for years, but that old man will never die. Marc says it’s because God doesn’t want him back.”

He took a bite of his burrito and chewed for a minute. “I think I’ve heard Titus mention him.”

“You probably have. He’s one of the firm no-votes on accepting the Mississippi Valley Pride, which means he’s kind of your family’s arch nemesis. Also, he’s the Alpha of the Southwest Pride, which makes him Jared’s boss. And his grandfather. We’re trespassing in his territory right now.”

“Okay.” Justus said around a bite of burrito. “That’s unfortunate. Who else do we have?”

“Umberto Di Carlo. Bert.”

“I know that name,” Justus said as he veered left onto the highway. “Why do I know that name?”

“Bert was Robyn Sheffield’s acting Alpha. She was sent to his house in Atlanta for rehabilitation/training/house arrest, after the plea bargain she made with the council. For the murders she committed.”

“Damn.” He took another bite of his burrito. “I’m starting to see why they think strays are savage murderers. Our track record is not awesome.”

“Bullshit. Turning into a werecat when you have no idea such a thing is possible would traumatize anyone. Drew knew that. That’s the only reason he was able to manipulate you. That’s the reason he infected you. He was counting on the fact that you wouldn’t be able to control your instincts or rein in your emotions without training. You were right—he turned you into a weapon and aimed you at his enemies.”

“Sounds like the council’s right: strays are the problem. They’re just wrong about which strays.”

“No,” I insisted. “Plenty of natural-born cats have committed crimes. Manx. Jace. Faythe. A couple of Jace’s brothers, and even more of his late stepfather’s enforcers. Me. I mean, really, we’re kind of a violent bunch. The council is trying to rein that in—I’ll give them credit for that—but it doesn’t do any good for them to insist that the problem lies only with the stray population. That’s like taking a sledgehammer to your own glass house.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But does that mean Di Carlo is another no-vote? Because Robyn chose my brother over his Pride?”

“Nope, he’s on your side. Thanks to Robyn. He was responsible for her training. He’s a good guy, and I suspect he saw how hard it was for her to master concepts that cats who grew up in Shifter society see from before they’re even old enough to understand what they are. He knows the struggle is real. And he knows exactly what it will take to overcome that. He’s a very good ally to have.” I glanced at him with a grin as I took another bite of my taco. “He’s also Vic’s dad.”

“Damn. Now I feel really bad about breaking Vic’s wrist.”

I shrugged. “He’ll probably tag you back next time he gets a chance, but the risk comes with the job. He knows that. I can’t even count how many broken bones Dr. Carver has had to come set at the ranch. Though Karen Sanders makes a pretty good field medic, in a pinch.”

“She also makes a very good shepherd’s pie.”

“Among other things. So, the last vote comes from Ed Taylor.” I turned the air conditioning down and aimed my vent at Justus. “The good news is that he’s open to acknowledging your brother’s Pride. At least, he says he is. Though Faythe seems to think that could just be political pandering.”

“And the bad news is that he’s ready to hang me up by my toenails and pluck out my eyes with a seafood fork?”

“That’s a little more graphic than any sentence currently being considered, but yes. That’s basically it.”

“And do we know why, exactly?” Justus asked around the last of his burrito.

“I can venture a good guess, but it’s kind of complicated. Ed Taylor is Brian’s dad. Brian works for Faythe and Marc, and he was engaged to Abby Wade for several years. For a while, that led to a strong three-way alliance between Ed Taylor’s Midwest Pride, Rick Wade’s East Coast Pride, and our South-Central Pride. But then Abby dumped Brian for Jace, who—along with Faythe and Marc—helped your brother start the Mississippi Valley Pride. And that alliance kind of splintered.”

“Wow. Okay. So, he wants to execute me because back before I was even a shifter, some girl I’d never met dumped his son for some guy I’d never met. That’s not quite how the human justice system works.”

“To be fair, we don’t know that he actually wants to execute you. But that’s not how our system is supposed to work either.” I stuffed the last of my taco into my mouth and unwrapped a second one while I chewed. “It’s possible that this is as simple as reminding Taylor of that. Of his duty to the council.”

“Considering the broken alliances and grudges you just rattled off, I can’t imagine that any part of this will be simple.”

“Valid point. But it’s worth a try.” I plucked my cell from the drink holder and sent Faythe a text asking for Ed Taylor’s number.

She replied half an hour later, as I was finishing my third taco. I smiled when I read her message.

“What?”

“Faythe sent me Taylor’s number and told him to expect a call from me. I guess there’s no backing out now.”

“And there’s no time like the present.” Justus dropped his empty burrito wrapper into the paper bag and challenged me with a grin. “Why don’t you show me just how badass my bride is?”

Something fluttered deep in my chest. “Stealing a car wasn’t enough for you?”

“Eh.” Justus shrugged. “Any good wife would get her husband’s murder charge dropped.”

I laughed. Then I dialed Ed Taylor’s number.