A Matter of Pride (14 page)

“You bitch.”
Lex leapt at her but she was too fast. She rocked back and countered with a rake of claws down his chest, making the wound there even bigger.

“That’s right. A prime, grade-A bitch who’s going to make sure you never rule anyone again.”
She hissed as he knocked her down. He sliced into her belly but she twisted away, using his fading strength against him.

Though weakened, he was still a good hundred pounds heavier than her, even in cat form. And he had a mean streak she’d never managed, not on a good day. But after seeing what he’d done to Dean, she had every intention of killing Lex and not batting an eye over it.

A sudden roar behind her made her smile. She heard more cats, a few wolves, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the growling of a fox. Good. They could take care of the Hunters while she finished Lex.

She just prayed Dean would make it. If the bastard died on her before she could yell at him for turning macho at the worse possible moment, she’d kill him herself.

Monty didn’t know what he’d expected, but Dean Chastell covered in blood and not moving had to be the worst of it. He raced past the Hunters and spitting felines, what few of them there were, and darted to Dean’s side. To his right, Stacey and another cat, presumably Lex, fought. But she seemed to be winning, and damn it all, Dean looked close to death.

“S-save her,”
Dean slurred. He’d lost a lot of blood, but his heartbeat sounded strong enough.

Thank God.

“Holy shit. I knew I’d find you again if I looked long enough.”

Monty froze. He knew that voice—one that had haunted his dreams and perpetuated his nightmares for years.

He turned and saw Ted Norris, the man who’d first captured him and introduced him to what Hunters were all about, standing and smiling with an evil glee that turned the animal in Monty inside-out. Something about Ted wasn’t normal, even for a Hunter. He had power, and it made Monty’s wolf want to run away and fight all at the same time. Most humans couldn’t tell one wolf from another. But Ted had always known him. The Pits, where Hunters forced Ac-taw to fight one another or die, had been a brutal mess of fur, fangs and claws. Yet Ted had kept track of Monty, his personal pet, no matter where Monty went or what he did.

Monty growled and took a step toward him, wanting to but not able to leave Dean, not with the mess of Hunters and rogues still fighting. Monty didn’t know who was who, and though he’d brought a few of Quince’s cats with him for backup, he didn’t trust them. He only trusted pride, and there were few of them as it was.

“We have unfinished business, wolf.” Ted would have lunged when Burke knocked into him and bit down hard.

From Monty’s vantage point, it looked as if Burke had a hunk of the man’s shoulder. But then Ted screamed and twisted, and Monty saw the skin of his cheek flapping in the wind.

“Outstanding hit, Burke.”
He barked his enthusiasm and then growled again, wanting nothing more than to join his buddy. Yet a part of him whimpered. That part Ted had scarred came limping back to life, terror like a bitter taste in his mouth. And Monty hated himself for it.

Ted screamed and struck at Burke again and again. But Burke continued to dig at him. The man should have been dead by now, but of course he wasn’t. He somehow managed to snake his weapon between them.

Monty let out a stream of warning barks.
“Burke, look out!”

Ted smacked Burke in the temple with the butt of his rifle. Then he shoved Burke away from him with supernatural strength. Before he could shoot, one of his buddies dragged him back, just as a cat leapt and missed him. Ted shot the cat and raced away, one hand held to his face. But before he escaped the lodge, he looked back over his shoulder.

“I’ll find you again, boy. See if I don’t.”

Monty growled, caught between a fine sweat of terror and an overwhelming need to kill. He shook from the strain before realizing the danger had yet to pass. Though his reinforcements had overtaken the Hunters and rogue cats, Stacey still battled Lex in the center of the room.

He shook himself free of the past, of the memories of cages and torture and blood, and stepped forward.
The friggn’ cat will kill me if she’s hurt.
Hell, he could smell Stacey’s bonding scent clearly on his friend. Yet he suddenly noticed none of the others stepping forward to help her out. Instead they watched and waited, taking in a show.

Ty sat on his haunches while Grady grinned and lay down, his wrists crossed.

“
I give her another swat to the head and he’s down
,” Grady said.

“
Nah. The bastard is big. I’m thinking it’ll take more than that. She hits like a girl
.” Ty’s whiskers twitched with laughter, especially when Stacey hissed at him.

Then she yowled and went for Lex’s jugular.

Monty shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d seen cats kill. He lived with the pride. But her ferocity impressed him because she gave Lex no quarter. She didn’t flinch when the bigger cat flailed and pierced her skin. She didn’t stop pulling at the bastard’s throat. And when Lex went limp, she gave a final crunch, breaking his windpipe before she dropped him and walked over to Dean.

“Holy shit. Now I’m in love.”
Monty wagged his tail, glad she didn’t look too worn down. A little bloody and beaten up, but nothing that wouldn’t heal.

With a disdainful sniff, she glanced at Dean.
“Will he live?”

“Do you care?”
He knew damn well she did. He could see the anxiety bristling her fur.

Yet she responded with a calm she had to be far from feeling. “
I suppose. I wouldn’t want Burke or Rachel to be too upset if he dies.
”

“
Yeah. Right. He’ll live
.” He frowned down at Dean. “
I think
.”

Stacey walked between him and Dean and nudged Monty out of the way. Then she plastered herself to Dean’s side and didn’t move.
“Go get him help.”

“Yes, ma’am.”
Monty loped to Burke, who had already shifted and was calling in a medical team. In minutes the raptors would appear to lend a hand.

They watched while Stacey licked Dean’s wounds, her paw keeping him steady while she tended him.

“Oh hell. That looks mighty possessive.” Burke made a face at the pair, but Monty could tell his friend was pleased.

He shifted back and joined Grady and Ty who stood by the far wall, watching Joel. “Hate to tell you boys, but I smell a mating. I think I’m owed some money.” He noticed Grady’s annoyance, which made his win even sweeter.

“Not from me you don’t.” Ty grinned. “I hedged my bets. I’ll be collecting from Joel as soon as he lets go of those two.”

They watched Joel, still in his massive bear form, carting two bloodied Hunter carcasses toward the growing pile in the middle of the room.

Ty cleared his throat. “I, ah, think I’ll talk to him later about my winnings.”

Grady snickered. “Smart man.”

“Shut up.”

Monty gave his friends an update on what he knew about this mess and watched Burke check over his brother. The cat seemed satisfied his brother would live, from the relief on his face. He stepped aside and motioned for Monty to join him.

Monty crossed to his pride leader. Christ, it sounded so weird to think of himself—a wolf—belonging to a pack of cats. “Burke?”

“You okay?”

Sensing the direction of the conversation, Monty closed up, burying his fear, his confusion and his frustration under an unassuming smile. “Sure. Why are you asking?”

“Something passed between you and that Hunter.” Burke scowled as he glanced around him. “I think the fucker got away.”

For now. “We’ll catch him.”

“Yeah, well, my bet is he’s going to be the order’s new priority. A Hunting party this close to Cougar Falls? Not good, wolf. Not at all.”

Monty didn’t like it either. His thoughts immediately went to Sophie. The woman was skittish enough around their own kind, new to being Ac-taw. If she fell in with Hunters, she might never recover. Hell, he still hadn’t.

“Monty?” Burke put a hand on his arm, instinctively knowing the wolf needed to be touched.

“You’re a good pride leader,” Monty said, gruff with sincerity.

“I know.”

Monty snorted. “And way too arrogant for a pussy.”

“That’s Boss Pussy to you, mange-boy.”

Monty sneered and flipped him the bird. They bantered, engaging Grady, the bear and the fox as well. But though he pretended all was well, he knew the nightmares would return, and they’d plague him until he finally ended this. Until he’d mounted Ted Norris’s fucking head to his wall.

Chapter Nine

Three days later, Dean still couldn’t believe it. Stacey had defeated Lex Gates. And she’d been vicious about it. She’d impressed the pride, Quince’s cats and everyone around town—or so he’d been told by Grady, who added to tales about her bravado with every visit to the sickroom Dean had been forbidden to leave.

With a wince, he dragged his legs over the side of the bed. Nurse Ratched, as Ty called the bird who’d healed the fox from his own brush with Hunters, had done her best to stitch Dean up. But even she’d needed help and called in crotchety old Doc Stanley, whose sage advice of rest and more rest Dean could have done without. He didn’t need to sleep, he needed Stacey’s warm thighs and sweet kisses to heal him. Unfortunately the princess needed to tend to her fans instead of the man who’d nearly died trying to save her sexy ass.

His brothers didn’t seem too worried about him either, which peeved him more than a little. Neither of them had offered him any sympathy. Instead they stuck him with Rachel and Julia—torture at best. The mothers-to-be had been practicing all that nurturing crap on him, which wouldn’t have been too bad if that had involved soft caresses, comments about his bravery and red meat. But they insisted on chastising him for nearly getting himself killed in between force-feeding him broth and vegetables. Christ, if they kept it up, his cat might shrivel up and die.

To make matters worse, they were pleasant about it. He didn’t need nice. He needed someone tough, arrogant and a bit mean. Someone so fucking beautiful he couldn’t take his eyes from her, even when she frowned at him or made fun of him for being too far beneath her to notice.

Where the hell was she? It had been three days now. Anytime he brought up her name, the idiots around him changed the subject.

He heard footsteps on the stairs, and his heart raced. But the footsteps sounded too heavy to be Stacey’s. And then the door opened.

“Oh hell.” He groaned when Miles walked in. The cat’s hair was still blue, which would have been funny if Dean wasn’t aching, frustrated and pissed off that Stacey hadn’t visited him.

Miles glared. “I just wanted to thank you.”

“While growling?”

“For saving my sister’s life.”

Dean squirmed in discomfort. He could lie to himself all he wanted, but at the end of the day, she’d killed Lex while he’d been unconscious. “She saved herself.”

“That’s bullshit. You nearly died keeping them away from her. She knows it, and I know it. We owe you.”

“Fuck that. She doesn’t owe me shit.” How the hell could the woman think she owed him anything? Mates cared for one another. They didn’t bargain or charge each other for help.

“Wait. She doesn’t owe you, but I do?”

“Tell you what, Blue.” He took a perverse sense of pleasure seeing Miles clamp his jaw tight. “You forget about the hair and we’ll call it even.”

“Hard to forget when the dye won’t wash out.”

“Just use the counteragent under my sink. Grady or Burke could have told you it’s there.” Let them deal with Miles. It was the least they could do for their poor, unloved little brother. “I’ve used the same dye on them a time or two growing up.”

“Yeah?” Miles narrowed his eyes.

“Monty too. He knew about it.” Not really, but the wolf laughed every time he saw Dean, and Dean didn’t like it.

“I’ll deal with Monty too. If I can find him. The wolf is hard to pin down.”

But not too gone to send Dean a bouquet of flowers and a note that read,
To Mr. Stacey Bermin: Congratulations on winning sucker of the year award
. The bastard.

Dean hadn’t claimed Stacey yet. And he needed to in the worst way. He felt her inside him, as if a part of her had bonded to him already. He hoped she’d started the process, but he couldn’t tell. He needed to see her again to know, but the blasted woman remained incommunicado.

“Where the hell is your sister?” he blurted, unable to hold back.

Miles smirked. “Which one?”

“Stacey. Where is Stacey?”

“Probably packing. With the threat gone, we’re going home. Lex is dead and his traitors rounded up—well, except for Quince.” Miles frowned.

“But the others are okay, right?” While he and Stacey had been dealing with cats and Hunters, Monty and Quince’s guys had fought their own battle. A few dickheads from Miami had tried to tangle with Burke, but he’d made short work of them. Grady and Gabby, apparently, were one hell of a team. And Joel, thankfully, had gotten to knock some heads together too, which made the bear happy.