Pride (29 page)

Too on edge to sit now, I folded a pair of khakis, then put them in the bottom drawer of the closest dresser. “Kaci, how long have you been here?” She shook her head, obviously thrown off by the change of subject, so I tried again. “In these woods, on this mountain?”

“I…I don’t know.” Her eyes narrowed in thought, and her hand absently stroked the sleeve of the pink sweater on the bed next to her. “What day is it?”

“November thirteenth.”

Her eyes closed, and her pulse spiked noticeably.
“November?”
When she looked at me again, her eyes were glazed with fear, highlighting the pale green in a sea of deep brown. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” I forced a small smile and bent to pick up a package of athletic socks that had fallen on the floor. “What month did you think it was?”

“I don’t know.” She half turned toward the window, her gaze going unfocused as she stared at the trees in the distance. “I knew it had gotten colder out, obviously, but the last time… When I…” Her mouth closed firmly, and she sank onto the bed facing me, without bothering to shove the clothes over. “August. It was the end of August.”

Whoa.
She’d been on her own for two and a half months. Not weeks.
Months.

Part of me was impressed. But the rest of me was furious
at whoever was responsible for this girl. If Kaci was a Pride cat, some team of enforcers was
seriously
neglecting its duty. If she was a stray, someone had infected her, and whoever the bastard was, he was going to
pay
for that when we found him.

Just like I would pay for what I did to Andrew.

A sob caught in my throat and I forced it down, startled by the sudden reminder that I was in as much trouble as whoever was responsible for Kaci. Yes, I’d infected my ex by accident, but that had made no difference to him. What had mattered to Andrew was that I bit him, then abandoned him. His blood was on my hands, and I would pay.

But not before someone paid for what had happened to Kaci. And to the hikers by extension.

“Kaci, when you were in cat form, did you see any humans?”

“Not very often.” She fingered the collar of the leather coat, her gaze tracking her hand up and down the smooth surface. “I followed the river most of the time, but I stayed in the woods, and there weren’t many people out there. Mostly just animals. Deer and rabbits. And raccoons.”

“But you
did
see some humans?”

She nodded slowly. “A few. Why?” Her voice grew cold with suspicion, and I steeled myself in preparation to simply spit the question out. Surely that would be easier on us both. But before I could do more than open my mouth, a soft, rapid series of knocks sounded on the door.

My nose supplied me with Dr. Carver’s name even as he eased the door open.

Kaci froze, and startled recognition flashed across her face. “It’s okay.” I moved quickly to put myself between the two of them, facing her. “You remember Dr. Carver?”

Her head bobbed stiffly.

“Doc?” I twisted and arched my brows at him in question, which he took as an invitation to enter.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” He smiled confidently, but his
left hand rubbed the bandage on his right arm, a painful reminder of their last meeting. “But I need to borrow Faythe for a few minutes.”

“What’s up?” I glanced at my watch. I still had forty minutes.

“Michael’s asking for you downstairs.”

I scowled, showing him silently how bad his timing was. “Can it wait?”

“Um…no.” The urgency in Dr. Carver’s eyes sent an adrenaline-spiked surge of dread through my bloodstream, and I frowned.
What’s wrong
now?

“K
aci, I’ll be right back.” I hesitated, one hand on the doorknob. “Can I bring you a soda?”

She nodded, eyeing us both suspiciously, but voiced no protest when I followed the doctor into the hall.

“Sorry,” Carver said as soon as the door latched shut behind us, heedless of the guard obviously listening in. “But Michael—”

I cut him off with a harsh look and a firm grip on his arm, hauling the doctor quickly toward the staircase at the end of the hall. “She can hear us, genius,” I hissed, clomping onto the first step.

One corner of his mouth turned up in surprise. “Yeah, I guess she can. Why is it we forget children can hear us, and we talk about them like they aren’t even there?”

“Children? Hell, that’s how most of you treat
women.
And that’s not always a bad thing.” I got most of my privileged information when some stupid tom or arrogant Alpha forgot I was within hearing range.

“I suppose you’re right.” The doctor shrugged, but had the sense to look embarrassed.

Downstairs, I found Michael surrounded by Jace and all four Alphas, all staring at whatever he held. Lucas and the other enforcers were gone, presumably having joined the search for the still-missing female hiker.

Marc hovered on the edge of the room, fists clenched in irritation. Though his flight wouldn’t leave until early the next morning, he’d been removed from the proceedings by virtue of his official banishment, and I’d
never
seen him look more frustrated.

All heads turned my way as I thumped to the hardwood floor from the last carpeted step. “Is this about Kaci?” I whispered.

“Yeah, I found—”

I cut Michael off with a curt toss of my head toward the door as I marched past him, snatching my jacket from the back of an armchair on the way. “Let’s take it outside. She can hear bits of everything said down here.” To my amusement, they all followed me through the kitchen and into the backyard without a word of protest.

We wound up beneath the high, broad branches of an old oak, and I gave myself mental kudos for picking the side of the building the tabby
couldn’t
see from her window. Michael stopped in front of me and the Alphas re-formed that same semicircle around him, Jace and Dr. Carver hovering around the edges.

“I found her,” Michael announced. “Kaci, with a
K
and an
I,
and Dillon with two
L
’s.”

“Yeah?” I’d been expecting that, of course. “What’d you find?” My gaze strayed to the thin stack of papers in his right hand. On the front page, a black-and-white school photo of a young girl stared up at me. It was upside down from my perspective, and her face was much fuller, eyes glittering with innocence and unspoiled youth. But it was Kaci, without a doubt.

Michael handed me the top sheet—an online-newspaper printout—and I turned it around to stare into Kaci’s eyes
while he spoke. “The Dillons were big news in their little town a couple of months ago. They even made a few of the papers down here.”

The headline read: Father Mourns Missing Daughter.

Kaci’s dad was still
alive?
If so, what the hell was she doing here alone?

Michael took a deep breath, then launched into an explanation he’d obviously already given the others. “On August 28, Roger Dillon came home from work to find his wife and sixteen-year-old daughter dead in their backyard. Mauled by an animal. Kaci was missing.”

Cold waves of shock washed over me, combining with the frigid air to numb me from head to toe. My fingers throbbed with each painful beat of my heart. “How could we not know about this?” My voice sounded hollow, fuzzy.

My father sighed, clearly frustrated, and rubbed one hand across his creased forehead. “I’m sure the Canadian council knew. Has anyone ever heard of a Canadian Alpha named Dillon?” Heads shook silently, and my father’s frown deepened. “If there is one, this could very well be a strike from a rival Pride. A play for more territory.”

“That would explain why they left Kaci alive,” Blackwell said, already nodding as he tightened his grip on his cane. “Take the land
and
the daughter.”

“What about the sister?” I asked, bothered by such an obvious hole in the theory.

Malone shrugged, arms crossed over his chest. “Accidents happen.”

Yeah, right
. But that wasn’t what I meant. “What kind of dam has two daughters and
no
sons?”

“That is unusual, but not really
impossible,
” my father insisted.

“It’s un
heard of
.” I propped one boot on an exposed root at the foot of the tree and stretched to reach the branch over
my head, just to have something to do with my free hand. “A werecat family structure like that would be big news all over the world, from the moment that first daughter was born. We’d all have heard of them.”

“Unless the council tried to keep it quiet, to avoid just such an attack from an enemy Pride.” Uncle Rick pointed at the printout I still held, and I handed it back to Michael.

Okay, that made pretty good sense. A tabby was her Pride’s greatest resource, and rivals would be jealous of any Pride with two tabbies. But…

“Even if it were possible for one Alpha to have two daughters, what about the father? Wouldn’t he be the primary target of such an attack? Why strike before he gets home? And what about the enforcers? The attackers would have had to go through at least half a dozen to even
get
to the wife and daughters. Right? But no other bodies were found. Which reminds me, why in he—”
Oops
. “I mean, why on earth would the father call the human authorities into a werecat matter? That’s just
asking
for trouble from all involved. There would be questions, and biological evidence, and—”

“I think you’ve made your point,” my father interrupted, his expression an odd mix of pride and embarrassment. He knew I was working my way around to my stray-tabby theory.

“No, she hasn’t. What are you trying to say?” Malone demanded, scowling at me.

“Daddy…” I faced my father, pointedly ignoring Malone. Jace shook his head at me from over my uncle’s shoulder. But the truth had to be heard sometime, and I was obviously the only one willing to say it. “It wasn’t a hit. I don’t think the Dillons are werecats.”

“That’s not possible,” Blackwell said, just as Malone snapped, “That’s ridiculous.”

I arched my brows at them both. “More ridiculous than a single dam giving birth to two tabbies and no toms?”

“Well, there’s an easy way to find out.” My father put a hand on my shoulder, warning me to keep quiet. “Paul, has Colin Dean left yet?”

“No.” Blackwell glanced at his watch, his other hand clutching his cane. “Not for a couple of hours. He’s sitting with Brett.” No doubt Blackwell’s idea of the punishment fitting the crime. And I had to admit I liked it—though not as well as I’d like to see Colin neutered.

Daddy’s iron gaze landed on Jace. “Go get him.”

Jace jogged obediently toward the lodge. I trailed him with my eyes, not the least bit surprised to see Marc watching from the porch. He followed Jace inside, and though I couldn’t hear what they were saying, it was obvious they were both upset.

Michael cleared his throat to regain our attention, flipping through the papers in search of something in particular. “The human authorities assumed it was a wild-animal attack because it
looked
like a wild-animal attack. And because the Dillon home is very isolated, surrounded on three sides by thick forest populated with deer, wolves, and at least two species of wildcat.
Actual
wildcats.” He paused, still glancing through the pages, then pulled one from the pile triumphantly.

“Here we go. In the two weeks following the Dillon massacre—” my brother held up the page to show me the dramatic headline “—forest rangers shot four cougars, two wolves, a bobcat, and a bear. The locals went a little overboard trying to make sure they got the animal responsible.”

Which they obviously had
not
done. Proof that werecats exist would have made front-page news the world over.

I squinted, staring at another black-and-white photo on the paper Michael held, this one of two men in hunting gear, grinning like fools as they held the corpse of a cougar upside down between them, the poor cat’s head dragging on the ground.

Gorge rose in my throat, and I swallowed it, keeping my lunch down with sheer will. “Well, that’s just…lovely.” I
couldn’t find a word graphic enough to describe such pointless slaughter. At least we
ate
the animals we hunted. “What about Kaci? What does it say about her?”

“Officially, she’s missing and the investigation is still open. But an aunt told the local paper that they don’t expect to find her alive. Last month her dad bought a burial plot next to her sister and put up a stone memorial.”

Well, at least
that
was in our favor. Morbid, but definitely good from our perspective. No matter what happened next, Kaci couldn’t go back to live with her father, if he was truly human. That wasn’t safe for him, or for us.

The back door of the lodge slammed, and we turned as one to see Colin trudging across the grass toward us, Jace on his heels.

“You rang?” the blond tom said, not bothering to screen malice from his tone.

Paul Blackwell stood straight on his crooked old spine, both hands on the curve of his cane. “Until that plane leaves the ground, you are in
this
jurisdiction and under
my
authority. You will adopt an attitude of respect, or I will see you pay for your impertinence. Can you wrap your thick skull around that, Dean?”

Colin nodded curtly, his gaze focused several inches over his Alpha’s head. The Canadian import was one big motherfucker—Lucas was the only one of us who could look him in the eyes—and he towered over the old man. But size isn’t everything, which Colin’s own cowardice had proved.

“Good. If you want to make it home in one piece, listen up and answer Councilman Sanders’s questions.”

Still scowling, Colin turned expectantly to my father, reluctant curiosity written in each frown line on his face.

“Your father is Alpha of one of the Ontario Prides. Curtis Dean, right?”

Colin’s curiosity deepened, as did his put-out glower. “Yes. Why?”

“Give me his phone number.”

Colin’s eyes went wide in panic. “Why? What did I do now?”

Paul Blackwell growled viciously, glaring at his disgraced enforcer, and I nearly choked on surprise. I’d had no idea such an ancient set of vocal cords could produce a sound so fierce. “Give him the number.”

The unfortunate tom glanced from his Alpha to my father, and prattled off a series of numbers. My dad dialed, then dismissed Colin with one careless wave of his hand. Colin stepped back, but lingered at the edge of the circle to listen in, obviously still convinced the call involved him.

“Curtis?” my father said into his phone. “This is Greg Sanders, from the U.S. council.” He paused, and we all listened to the elder Dean’s gregarious greeting. “Yes, it has been a while.” Another pause, during which Colin’s dad apologized for his son’s abominable behavior. “Don’t even mention it,” my father said, somehow managing to sound generous. “That’s between you and your boy now. I have a question for you on a separate matter.”

Behind me, Colin sighed in relief, but his stance remained tense. He clearly wasn’t looking forward to the afternoon’s family reunion.

“Do you guys have an Alpha named Dillon?” my father continued, turning to Michael for confirmation. “Roger Dillon?”

Michael nodded, and all eyes went back to my dad’s phone, waiting for the answer. But I knew what it would be before Mr. Dean ever made a sound, because Kaci’s father was no Alpha. He wasn’t even a werecat. I had no doubt about that.

“No, there’s no Dillon,” Councilman Dean said, curiosity pitching his voice a little higher. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, we’re just trying to straighten something out down here. I’ll tell you all about it when I have more time.”

But we all knew that when he did, he would
not
be mentioning Kaci. Since she was either born into or infected in Canadian territory, one of the local Alphas might decide he had a legitimate claim on the “extra” tabby. Such an assertion would make it very difficult—politically speaking—for us to hold on to Kaci, assuming she wanted to stay with us. Which I didn’t doubt for an instant.

Unfortunately, I also had no doubt Colin would fill his father in the moment he stepped off the plane, and there was nothing we could do about that, other than cross our fingers that the Canadian council wouldn’t decide to make trouble.

We were all full up on trouble at the moment, and had no provisions in place for the overflow.

My dad thanked Councilman Dean, then hung up. “Jace, get on the phone and tell all of our search teams to go back to where they found Tindale’s body for a second look around. We have to find his wife before the humans do. Michael, fire up your computer again and see what else you can find out about Kaci’s father. Where is he? Is he still looking for her?”

Michael nodded and took off toward our cabin at a fast jog.

Then my father turned to me, and my heart tried to beat its way out through my rib cage with one look at his face. I wasn’t going to like whatever he had to say. “Kaci infected Bob Tindale—we know that for a fact—which means she probably knows what happened to his wife, too. We need to know what she knows. What she
did.
And we need
you
to find out. Fast.”

I smiled, well aware that my father was emphasizing the necessity of my participation for the other Alphas, as well as for me. “I’ll get your answers.” I stepped back, to look at all four Alphas at once. “But I think you should all be prepared for the possibility that you won’t like what you hear, and I’d rather you not shoot the messenger.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Malone demanded, eyes narrowing at me in suspicion.

My father shot me a warning look, but I ignored it. Ignorance is dangerous, and ignorance on the part of our governing body could prove catastrophic. No pun intended. “That means there’s a good possibility Kaci Dillon is a stray.”